#eren jaeger series

[theragethatisdesire]

much ado about nothing chapter 6 - plug!eren x reader - 18+!!!

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. minors and ageless blogs, please do not read below the cut.

ummmmm HIII so sorry i know i still owe you guys a million drabbles and i haven't been posting as much but this chapter is just chock-full of drama and i'm so excited to share it bc hehehe it's a rollercoaster. also we should def stop listening to sasha. sneaky posting; have fun babies!!!! i cannot WAIT to hear your thoughts

specific cws: alcohol use, violence (like fist-fighting level not insane), mentions of drugs, swearing, incredibly awkward tension lol

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“The course of true love never did run smooth.” A Midsummer Night’s Dream by William Shakespeare (Act I, Scene 1)

You’ve done a lot of partying in your days, but you never thought a hangover could float over your shoulders for damn near two weeks. Then again, maybe that rancid taste in your mouth is regret instead of the practical gallons of liquor you’d guzzled that night.

Historia tells you to delete the evidence, have a glass of wine with your friends, focus on your studies, put meaning back into the happy distractions that make up life. Sasha tells you to suck it up, download Tinder, do something other than wallow in your bed with nothing on but the fairy lights along your ceiling. Ymir tells you men aren’t worth embarrassing yourself for, maybe start swinging the other way, that she knows a few very pretty single ladies.

You meet all of their advice with a slow nod, sometimes a chuckle, put your head down, and go about your business, letting the shame follow you around like a little rain cloud from building to building around campus. Even your students have noticed something’s making you tick; Falco and Gabi left a package of Crumbl cookies in your office the other day, and for the first time, Zofia has begun to raise her hand in class. It’s heartwarming, really, but it doesn’t solve your problem.

Problems would be the better term for it. To start, there was your royal fuck-up with Eren. You had over-indulged and gotten a little too flirty to be “friends”, sure, it happens, but something had snapped in you when you saw Eren with that leggy blonde hanging all over him at the club.

Breeze. Even wearing naught but a skirt and some thin tights with the early winter wind whipping around your legs, just the thought of her name makes your blood boil. She was perfect, all bouncy and easygoing and cool, hippie clothes. To be fair, she was the one with the true claim on Eren; you had dug your own grave, far too confident in your ability to be just friends with someone so…so Eren.

Your friendship had been growing closer and closer by the passing day before that night, texting at nearly every minute of the day and spending time together wherever you could fit it in your full schedule. You had made plans to bake Christmas cookies together, even despite Eren’s protests that Christmas was a “capitalistic hellhole of a holiday season”, had acted out your favorite Shakespeare scenes in your pajamas, much to Eren’s amusement, and had made a habit of staying up late into the night watching and rewatching your favorite animes, heatedly debating characters. It had been butterfly-inducing, dizzying, perfect. Until you had indulged in one too many shots and humiliated yourself, that is.

Seeing Breeze all over Eren had made you realize the severity of your mistake trying to keep Eren in your life, realize the warm feeling blooming in your chest every time he grinned at you, all teeth and his little chin dimple, was decidedly much more than a platonic appreciation for a new friend. It turned out that you’d been right from the start; you weren’t his type, and to make matters worse, his actual taste in women had been thrust in your face unexpectedly.

When you had awoken the next morning, debating on whether to fall back asleep immediately or dash to the toilet, Historia had greeted you with a sorry smile, a cup of coffee, and a quiet word of advice to look through your phone. Knowing your drunken self, you pulled up your phone calls first, wanting to make sure you hadn’t accidentally Facetimed your mom to tell her how much fun you were having or something cringe-worthy of the sort. But no, of course it had to be much worse than that.

There was a phone call– to Eren. Your call log had recorded a one minute and thirty-six second phone call between you and Eren, one you obviously didn’t remember making.

“Please tell me you were with me when I called Eren,” you groan, so naive, “did I completely embarrass myself?”

Historia blushes. “Well, he didn’t answer, if it’s any consolation–”

“Oh, thank god–”

“But that didn’t exactly stop you,” Historia fiddles with the edge of her t-shirt, “you left him a voicemail.”

Even through your throbbing headache, you shoot right up out of bed at that. “What?! What did I say?”

“I don’t know,” Historia moans woefully, putting her hands over her face, “I’m sorry, I tried to stop you, but you ran off as soon as you started talking. By the time I caught up to you, you were already hanging up.”

“So, there’s a voicemail from drunk me on Eren’s phone, and neither of us have any idea what it says?”

“Correct.”

“My life fucking sucks.”

“It’s about to get a whole lot worse,” Historia says, throwing your sheets back and snuggling beside you in the bed, burrowing her face in your shoulder, “check your texts.”

And oh, had it gotten worse. Your drunken, foolish text sat in your outbox, unanswered, unread, and inexcusable. Six months later and you were right back where you started, begging a ghost of a man to explain why he couldn’t love you.

> hi luke, i’m sorta ficked up, but i misz you. why did yoi never call me???? you owe me at leasttg that. a fcking explanation,. 

Storming through campus, coat tucked around your shoulders against the biting chill, you wince at the memory. You haven’t deleted the unanswered text yet, keeping it stale in your phone as a reminder of what happens when you get too attached to people you know aren’t good for you.

You thought you’d be more heartbroken over the text to Luke and its lack of an answer, but surprisingly, you’re not. It’s Eren haunting your thoughts, Luke’s just the placeholder for all of your anger at this point. Eren isn’t to blame for all of this, you are, and that’s why you can’t bring yourself to face him, can’t bring yourself to answer any of the hesitant texts he’s sent you since that god-awful night.

You’re not in college anymore, you have to keep reminding yourself. You’re twenty-four, and you’d like to think you’re past the phase of your life where you’re handing your heart out to anyone that passes like it’s a Costco sample. You aren’t even sure if you want Luke anymore at this point, if you could even speak to him if you bumped into him these days. He had, admittedly, treated you like dirt, wrenched your heart out from your chest and left it on the sidewalk to collect dust. At least you can hate him, hate what he did to you, hate that you’re stuck on him like a broken record skipping to the same chorus every few weeks.

You can’t hate Eren, though. You can be disappointed in him for entertaining his terrible ex-girlfriend, not aloud of course because he hadn’t actually mentioned her to you himself, but you can do it internally. Even that isn’t enough to make you feel better; not only had he not trusted you, not felt safe or comfortable enough with you to share the skeletons in his closet, but he was likely zooming full-speed down a dead-end street, the way Sasha tells the story. Your heart aches for him out of a painful mixture of pining and fervent concern.

Your only solution so far has been to dive headfirst into your coursework and your students; it hasn’t done much to distract you, but with finals on the horizon, it’s not the worst method of coping you’ve come up with in your days.

Your newly invigorated dedication to your work and your courses are the cause of you dragging yourself across campus to 104, desperate for caffeine and practically a corpse after two weeks of near-constant self-shaming keeping you up at night.

The smell of the coffee shop, earthy and warm, hits you almost as hard as the blasting heat inside, and you practically slouch upon entering, the weight of the cozy atmosphere cocooning you like a warm blanket. If there’s one place that will always feel like a hug, it’s 104 Beans, your coffee shop of choice (and obligation, considering the small size of your campus) for the last six years.

Pieck, your favorite barista, greets you in her typical dreamy manner. “Hi love, same as usual?”

“Hey Pieck,” you greet her with a weary smile. As you dig around in your bag for your wallet, the extent of your exhaustion versus the amount of work you have left to do surfaces in your brain. “Actually…no, not my usual. Can I get a quad shot Americano?”

Pieck pauses where she’s scribbling onto a paper cup with a Sharpie, eyes flitting back up to you in disbelief. “A quad shot Americano?”

“A quad shot Americano.”

“Jesus,” Pieck sighs, eyes wide, “work’s that rough, huh? Black coffee not going to cut it?”

“The shakes will be worth it,” you confirm, swiping your card through the machine.

“Can I please make it a cappuccino then? You’re going to need something creamy to get all that espresso down,” Pieck looks back up at you, eyes pleading.

“Fine,” you sigh, “but–”

“Almond milk, I know,” Pieck winks at you, sliding your cup down the assembly line of baristas working amongst the hissing of the espresso machine and the pleasant, folky music floating from the speakers. “We’re a little busy, so give me five and I’ll bring it over to you.”

You smile gratefully and collect your things, turning to scout out what’s hopefully a quiet table in the corner, when a pair of arms tossed around your shoulders stops you. The familiar scent of fruity perfume tickles your nose, and you slump against the tight grip in relief.

“You made it out of the house!” Sasha’s eyes glow with pride, as if you’d just run a marathon.

“It’s not like I’m a hermit,” you roll your eyes, “I have class five days a week.”

“You don’t go anywhere besides class or your house though, so you still get participation points,” Sasha grins, shaking your shoulders, “how are you feeling?”

“Well…”

Sasha’s expression crumples. “Still that bad, huh?”

“The Luke thing was pathetic of me, but honestly, it’s not haunting me as much as I thought it would,” you admit, pausing for a moment to allow Sasha to grab her coffee from the barista when her name is called, “the one thing that’s really sticking with me is the Eren issue.”

“Like, the voicemail? Or Breeze?”

“Both. I would give anything to know what that voicemail said, but whatever was going on between us aside, I just hope he’s okay, y’know? With Breeze back in the picture and everything.”

Sasha bites into her bottom lip and glances around the coffee shop, checking every face at every table. You know that face; she’s hiding something.

“What?”

“What?” Sasha cocks her head innocently. You nearly smack her.

“You’re not telling me something.”

“Uh…okay, yeah, I’m not, but I’m not sure if I should. I mean, you’re actually out of the house–”

“I leave my house plenty!”

“You know what I mean,” Sasha scoffs, “it’s just…if you’re feeling better, I don’t want to throw you back into the deep end.”

You have no words for that, absolutely despising the way that she is completely correct. Whatever information lies behind Sasha’s bitten lip could either make you feel a hundred times better or a hundred times worse, and you’re stuck debating on whether you should gamble or not when Sasha makes the decision for you.

 “Fine, you wore me down,” she sighs.

“I didn’t even say anything,” you point out, raising an eyebrow.

“You don’t have to,” Sasha says, annoyed, “you have this, like, fucking puppy dog look. Makes me sick. Get your coffee, I’ll find a table, and we can talk.”

Like clockwork, the moment Sasha steps away, Pieck grabs your attention and hands your coffee over along with an extra hot cup half-full of steamed almond milk. You look at her questioningly, and she merely shrugs.

“That’s a lot of espresso. I know you’re in, like, your depressed writer phase right now, but I figured a little extra milk would come in handy.”

“You’re the best,” you smile at her affectionately, thinking absentmindedly that you should invite her out to Scout’s sometime. Before she can respond, Pieck’s gaze lands on something just over your shoulder. You can smell him even before you turn around, musky cologne and a little hint of weed. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

“Hey Pieck. Usual?” His throaty timbre cuts through the thick air, sharp as a knife. Pieck nods politely and gets to work on his coffee, forgoing a trip to the cash register. That tracks; Pieck’s hooded eyes are bloodshot more often than not.

“Excuse me,” you mutter, trying to sneak around him, but Eren’s quicker than you, side-stepping to cut you off.

“Hey stranger,” he smiles down at you, but it’s tense, nervous, “trying to run off on me?”

“Didn’t even realize that was you, sorry,” you lie, offering him a thin smile in return. You spot Sasha gaping at you across the cafe, waving her arms wildly and mouthing What the fuck?. You can’t help but feel similarly.

“It’s been awhile, how are you?”

“M’fine, just really busy with school.” God, you hate this, this awkward small talk barely parsing its way through the jungle of things left unsaid between you two. “You?”

“Fine,” Eren looks around awkwardly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Good,” you speak directly into your coffee, unable to stomach the emerald green peering down at you.

“You know,” Eren’s words come out quite like he can’t believe he’s saying them, “I kinda thought you were avoiding me.”

“Did you?” Your voice is caught in your throat, coming out in a pathetic squeak. Has he heard the voicemail? The startling turn the conversation’s taken must be visible all over your face, because Sasha’s flailing arms beckoning you over to the table grow more urgent.

“You haven’t texted me back, haven’t seen you in a couple weeks,” Eren’s incredibly focused on his shoes, kicking one Vans sneaker idly back and forth on the floor and making a squeaking sound, “so yeah, sort of.”

“I’m busy,” you deadpan, praying to any god you can remember the name of that you’ll just disintegrate right where you stand. Eren meets your eyes again, smirks disbelievingly.

“You said that.”

Something in his tone annoys you, something about his insinuation that he knows you’re blatantly lying, that he’s teasing you over your embarrassment, ignites a little flame in your chest. You scowl at him.

“I mean, you must be pretty busy too.”

“Why’s that?”

“Breeze just got back into town, didn’t she?” No going back now. Eren’s face blanches for a moment, features growing pale, but he manages to school his face back into that nonchalant pout that you want to slap right off his face.

“Historia told you?” He doesn’t sound surprised; in face, he sounds almost expectant, like he knew you’d find out at some point. It stakes the embers burning in your chest.

“She’s my best friend, so yeah.” This feels like an argument. It shouldn’t be an argument, but your clipped tone is pushing it in that direction. You’ve spent the last two weeks reminding yourself that you have no claim on Eren, no reason to be hurt or upset, but here you are, feeling that familiar rush of anger coursing through your veins.

“I mean, we haven’t been hanging out or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Who said I was worried?”

Eren’s eyebrows knit together, a little frown playing at his mouth. “I don’t know, I mean–”

“Look, Sasha’s waiting for me,” you point over Eren’s shoulder to the little two-top table, where Sasha has stilled within the blink of an eye, shooting Eren an innocent smile and a little wave. “I’d love to catch up, but maybe another time.”

“It was good seeing you.” Eren looks confused, albeit, a little bit hurt, and you hate it. Why is that so much worse, even worse than the sight of him with Breeze hanging off of his arm? His little pout puts a needle through your ballooning anger, and you deflate, sighing.

“I’ll see you around, I’m sure.”

“Yeah,” Eren takes his coffee from Pieck and ambles towards the door, sparing you one last glance over his shoulder. Unwilling to hold his eyes any longer, you scurry to your table, just having realized that Pieck forgot to put a coffee sleeve around your cup and that it’s been burning your hand for the last several minutes.

“Ow! Shit!” You practically crash land across from Sasha, dropping your cups in synchronicity and shaking your red palms around in the air to cool them down.

“What was that?” Sasha hisses, leaning across the table so viciously that your drinks nearly topple over.

“He just showed up!”

“You didn’t have to talk to him.”

“I didn’t try to. He just, like, materialized behind me and started talking. What was I supposed to do? Run away?”

“Little shit,” Sasha swears, glaring at the door as if her anger can shoot through it like a laser beam, cut Eren down where he’s surely almost a block down the street by now, “what did he say?”

“He asked if I’ve been avoiding him," you say, twirling your wooden coffee stirrer through your drink idly and trying to look as if your heart’s not still beating at what’s sure to be a dangerous rate.

“Well, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. He got all smug about it,” you scoff, the replayed scene of Eren’s self-assured smirk wiping off of his face bringing you a little bit of petty satisfaction, “until I brought up Breeze.”

Sasha’s eyes grow wide, and she looks around the coffee shop again, as if Eren or Breeze might come popping out of one of the large potted plants in the corners. “That’s actually what I wanted to tell you. What did he say about it?”

“What did you hear?” You narrow your eyes at her, and she narrows hers back.

“You first.”

“He didn’t say much, just looked really surprised that I brought her up. Said they haven’t been hanging out.”

“That’s bullshit,” Sasha snorts, rolling her eyes. Something in your chest that had begun to glimmer, something akin to hope, feels like it just got a bucket of ice-water poured over it. You cock your head, furrow your brows.

“How would you know?”

“Because Hitch and I grabbed some coffee–”

“Hitch? I thought that was a–”

“Okay, don’t crucify me, I know,” Sasha holds her hands up defensively, “it was supposed to be a one night stand, but…I don’t know. She’s cool.”

“Cool?” Even through your desperation for anything Eren-related after a two week drought, you smile knowingly at her. Sasha’s not hard to read, especially when her face goes bright red from chin to forehead.

“Yes,” she hisses, “cool. Anyway, we came by a few days ago, and Eren was here. With Breeze.”

“I mean, I expected as much.”

You’re lying, you’re so lying. The only consolation you’ve had over the last two weeks that you’re not a complete moron is the hope that maybe, just maybe, Eren’s just as forlorn as you, laying around and wishing his phone would buzz with your name on it, wishing you’d pop up at his door with a bag of popcorn ready for movie night. Instead, your worst suspicions have been confirmed, and not only is Eren very much involved with Breeze again, but he had lied straight to your face about it. Ouch.

“They weren’t like, holding hands or anything. Honestly, it looked like they were fighting.”

“Well, what did Hitch say about it?” You don’t even know if you want to know, but with your brain short-circuiting inside your skull, your mouth has free reign to seek out information that will be about as soothing as lemon juice on a papercut.

“Eren won’t talk to any of them about her,” Sasha burns her tongue on her coffee and sucks in a sharp breath, “not even Armin, apparently. She said he’s been moody lately.”

“Wonder why,” you mumble, mulling all of this new information over in your head. Breeze is bad for him, makes him crazy, you already know that. But you didn’t think it would start this soon– you feel like if anything, he should be ecstatic that his long-lost love has finally come back to him. And he can stop trying to replace her, your brain adds helpfully, only doubling the watery ache swelling in your chest.

“Who cares?” Sasha rips open a granola bar, biting into it and continuing to speak with her mouth full. “That’s why you’ve got to stop avoiding him.”

“Huh? That seems like the opposite–”

“No,” Sasha cuts you off, an air of authority in her normally chipper voice, “you’re not going to cower in the corner just because Eren’s back with his shitty ex girlfriend–”

“It’s not just because of Breeze,” you correct her, “it’s because of that voicemail. I have no idea what I said. There’s a lot that’s contributing to my self-induced isolation, trust me.”

“Regardless,” Sasha mouths around another bite of her granola bar, “the only thing that will make you feel better is being around him.”

“That sounds a little contradictory–”

“Trust me,” Sasha interrupts you again, “the best way to make a guy come around is to be up in his face, flaunting how hot and single you are, and to not give him an ounce of your attention. It’s a tried and true method, I promise.”

It turns out that you are a beacon for those with bad ideas, evidently, because later that night, you’ve ended up at Scout’s, cuddled up against the bar with Sasha despite Historia’s fervent protests. If Historia shows up later, just to “check in” (read: see what’s come of Sasha’s terrible plan), you won’t be surprised. She’s prone to being the mom friend and the harbinger of gossip, but she hasn’t shown face quite yet. It’s just you, Sasha, and a handful of regulars, sipping unreasonably cold beers and trying to act as if the early December chill hasn’t rattled you to your bones.

“This is a stupid idea,” you murmur against the lip of your bottle, trying not to seem as unnerved as you are, even after an hour of waiting and sipping. Sasha scoffs beside you, picking through your near-empty basket of peanut shells in search of a full pod.

“It’s not. He’ll be here.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you dragged me out. It only took a week for me to start missing this place,” you run a thoughtful hand along the varnished wooden bartop, “but I’m just still not sure about this whole seeing-Eren-on-purpose thing.”

Before Sasha can answer, the door swings open to reveal the man in question: Eren, accompanied by Armin and Connie, as always, and sporting his standard uniform. Black hoodie, slouchy khaki pants that are tightened around the ankles, and his beat-up Vans.

You nearly sigh into your drink at how delicious he looks, only stopping when the little voice in your head reminds you that the voicemail you’d left him exists. Friends– no, strangers now? The concept of labeling your bizarre, gray-areas-only relationship with Eren brings a chuckle up your throat, one that spills onto the bar.

You can feel him watching you, but to your simultaneous surprise and disappointment, he gives you space, sidling up to the bar a few seats down from where you and Sasha are occupying a couple of bar stools. When Connie throws up a cheerful hand in greeting to you, you tentatively wave back, only for Armin to grab Connie’s attention and turn him toward the bar.

“Ha!” Sasha says triumphantly, looking at you with her eyes glowing like you’re supposed to have reached a revelation of some sort. “See?”

“Did you plot this with Connie?” You narrow your eyes in suspicion.

“No, I’m just a genius, that’s all.”

“I feel like your theory is being proven wrong, not right. He’s not even sitting near us.”

“Because you have the upper hand!” Sasha grins.

“The upper hand?”

“Yeah, he’s giving you some space so you can make the first move, get what you want out of him.”

“And what do I want out of him?” You nearly growl in your frustration, feeling silly sitting exactly four barstools down from Eren with him running through your mind as if he isn’t close enough to just hop up and hug. It’s a genuine question more than a rhetorical one; you’re not even sure what you expect out of him anymore. Another fuck? A fancy date night? A lifetime worth of radio silence, as if Eren isn’t the person you’ve connected better with than nearly anyone else in your romantic history?

Sasha’s brows furrow. “Don’t you know?”

“No! That’s what I was trying to tell you!”

“Oh,” Sasha frowns, rubs her chin, “we should have figured that part out before we came, I guess.”

“Sasha!” You whisper-hiss, ever mindful of what you’re sure to be prying ears only a few feet away. “So you have no plan?”

Sasha stumbles, stutters, and eventually, flushes bright red with a shrug. “Okay, fine, I have no plan. But at least it’s something to break up your routine of laying in bed eating chips and moping around the library.”

“You’re such a bitch.” You roll your eyes, but you don’t mean it, not really. Regardless of how things stand, at the very least you can sneak little glances at Eren, take in how good he looks– no, you correct yourself firmly. You hopped off that train of your own accord, and you’re better for it.

With some verbal manhandling, you goad Sasha into a lull of small talk, classes, anything that comes to mind. A pair of eyes finds you, not the emerald that keeps you up at night, but a pair of hazel old-and-new eyes draw to you, and you can feel the scratch of an unwelcome gaze on your skin.

“Floch’s here,” you state the obvious, sipping your drink and giving no physical indication that you’ve noticed him, staring straight ahead as you mutter to Sasha.

“Christ, this was not a good idea,” Sasha groans, face-palming.

“Wow, I sure wish that someone had suggested this was a bad idea, wouldn’t that have been nice?”

“Shut up,” Sasha says, peeking warily over her shoulder, “I think that’s Hitch in the corner, too.”

You frown, confused at the hunched, anxious change in her posture. “Why are you being weird? Go say hey.”

“I’m not abandoning you!”

“Oh, shut it. Why are you really being weird?”

“I, uh…” Sasha twirls her beer around on the counter, blushing, “I haven’t texted her back in like, four or five days.”

“Sasha! You like her, I can tell. What’s gotten into you?”

“It was supposed to be a one-night thing,” Sasha moans, letting her face fall dramatically into her hands, “and then it was movie nights and coffee and just…way beyond casual hooking up. I like her, but…I don’t know! I panicked.”

You chew on her admission for a second, selfishly comparing Sasha’s situation to your own. Was that what you were doing with Eren? No, surely not, but was that what he was doing with you? You knew he had loved Breeze, that she had wrecked him, but maybe…just maybe some small part of you wants to hope that he’s moved on, that the coffee shop sighting was a fluke.

You shoo Sasha in Hitch’s direction, demanding she run over to apologize and make nice with Hitch, partially to save Sasha’s first shot at a real relationship in years and partially because you want to stew alone with your thoughts. Before you can get too deep into your black hole of what ifs, a familiar presence is sliding into Sasha’s seat, grinning lewdly.

You sigh; it was only a matter of time before he sought you out.

“What do you want, Forster?”

“Last name only? Ouch,” Floch places a hand over his heart, drumming the fingers of his other hand on the countertop. You recognize his demeanor immediately: pupils blown wide, buzzing to the brim with nervous energy. Floch’s always dabbled in party drugs, part of why you could only stand to be around him in small doses back when you were hooking up.

“Are you coked out right now?” Mindful of Levi’s hovering presence behind the bar, you keep your voice to a low hiss.

“So you can’t call me by my first name, but you can ask such personal questions? Jesus, you really are full of it, aren’t you?”

“Floch,” you nearly groan in frustration, “I thought I made it perfectly clear the last time I saw you that I’m not interested.”

“Why are you being so mean to me, hm?” Floch snakes a hand around your shoulders, jostling you until your face is mere inches from his. You’re more than aware of a pair of green eyes nearly boring a hole in your forehead, and you feel a pang of regret that you sent Sasha away so quickly, remembering far too late that Hitch’s table doesn’t offer a great view of where you’re seated at the bar.

“I’m not being mean,” you try to push at him, but he’s locked around you, “I’m just not interested.”

“Stop being such a bitch, Jesus Christ,” Floch finally lets you shove him away from you, but he’s far from done, “when did you get so stuck up, huh?”

“Floch. Keep your voice down, and walk away.” You try to warn him; Floch may be a pain in your ass, but you’d like to believe that he’s not a bad guy, deep down. You’re too late, however. 

Eren’s materialized between you and Floch before you can blink, before you can even get another word out. His sudden presence forces you out of your barstool, stepping around him to get a better read on what the hell he thinks he’s doing. Eren seems not to notice you trying to insert yourself between him and Floch, and the look on his face makes you step back momentarily.

He looks terrifying. Eren’s nostrils are flaring, eyes blown wide and jaw clenched tight. He’s taking full advantage of his height, glaring down at Floch with such menace that if looks could kill, Floch would already be laid out on the floor.

“Get the fuck out of here, dude. She said no.”

“What are you, her little guard dog?” Floch, infamous for never knowing what’s best for him, scoffs at Eren’s incredibly intimidating posture.

“Maybe I am,” Eren sneers, “I’m damn sure not going to sit there and let you speak to her like that.”

“Who’s this loser?” Connie’s to your right now, gesturing to Floch. You don’t miss the telltale clenching of Eren’s hands by his side, and it hits your dizzied mind what’s going on. Eren’s going to end up swinging if you don’t interfere, and Connie’s there for backup. 

“Floch, please.” You reach a feeble hand up to Floch’s chest, trying to gently push him in the other direction.

In the blink of an eye, Floch’s grabbing you by the wrist hard enough to solicit a yelp from your lips, throwing your arm away from him with a look of disgust.

“Oh, so now you want to touch me, bitch?”

No sooner has Floch’s hand released your arm than Connie’s got his arms wrapped around you, yanking you out of the crossfire. Amidst a series of gasps, Eren grabs Floch around the back of the neck, pins him face-first to the bar. 

“Jaeger!” Levi barks sharply, darting over to the scene of the commotion.

“Is that what gets you off, huh?” Eren’s nearly nose-to-nose with Floch, whose busted lip is twisted in a grimace and dribbling little bits of blood onto the varnished bartop. “Calling women bitches when they don’t want your little dick?”

“Let him go, Eren,” Armin tries to intervene, having already dashed over from his barstool. You want to back him up, but you’re frozen where you’re pinned to Connie’s chest, trembling in his arms. You know Eren’s a little rough-and-tumble, but this, seeing it in real life, is much more terrifying than you could have imagined.

“What the hell? Are you okay?” You can hear Sasha’s voice from beside you, close enough to touch but distant in comparison to where your vision is zeroed in on Eren’s grip on the back of Floch’s neck.

“Answer me!” Eren rears Floch back a few inches and slams him against the bar again. Floch curses under his breath, wriggles fruitlessly under Eren’s weight.

“Get the fuck off me, Jaeger!”

“You fucking wish,” Eren hisses, tightening his grip further, “now apologize to my girl before you make me do something I’ll regret.”

“Eren,” you find your voice again, shaking out of Connie’s grip. You fist your hands into Eren’s hoodie sleeves, tugging hard enough to get his attention. “He’s not worth it. Let him go.”

“Listen to her, Jaeger,” Levi’s already-deep voice is stained with warning.

When you pull at his sleeve a little harder, Eren turns to you, eyes still blown wide and teeth bared. It startles you, but you hold firm, setting your own jaw and shaking your head.

“Let. Him. Go. Now, Eren.” You’re not sure how you’ve managed to muster up the conviction in your voice, but you’re grateful for it, as it seems to shake Eren back into himself. Eren slowly releases Floch and in the same easy motion, he guides you behind him with one long, strong arm.

“You,” Levi points accusingly at Floch, “out.”

Floch’s jaw drops. “I didn’t even–”

“Out.” Levi’s tone leaves no room for argument, and Floch seems to understand at least that. He turns his glare back to you and Eren, scowling deeply.

“The next time I see you, Jaeger, it’s fucking over.”

“Get lost before you make me fucking embarrass you,” Eren says, voice dripping with venom. Floch shakes his head, lets his gaze land on you. A chilling smile breaks over his features.

“Next time, sweetheart.”

“Get the fuck out of here already, bro,” Connie snaps, pointing towards the exit. Floch takes his leave, sauntering towards the door with all the confidence of someone who hadn’t just been pinned against the countertop. A heavy, staticky silence falls over the bar.

“If I see you fighting in here again, it’s over.” Levi’s cold eyes fall on Eren, who nods curtly in understanding. Eren brushes his hands through his hair, rests a hand on the bun at the back of his head. Something strange is coursing through your body; something that tastes like anger, burns like heartbreak, falls bitter on your tongue like envy.

“Are you okay?” Sasha appears at your side again, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Floch’s such a psycho, I’m not even surprised he picked a fight.”

You nod numbly, eyes never leaving Eren. He finally looks back down at you, none of the heat having left his eyes.

“What the fuck was that?” It takes you a moment to realize that it’s you speaking, you throwing those words up the inches from your mouth to Eren’s. Eren’s face contorts into a frown.

“What do you mean? He was bothering you, wasn’t he?”

“So you try to fight him?” You seethe. Maybe it is anger, this bizarre, foreign emotion tingling at the tips of your fingers. No, that’s not quite it, you’re not angry you’re just…confused. Hurt that Eren’s frolicking around with Breeze, doing whatever he pleases, and yet, he’s jumping into bar fights to save you from the tangible evidence of your past.

“What do you expect me to do when someone talks to you like that?” Eren hisses back, eyes narrowed.

Sasha’s backed away from the two of you now; you’re aware of your friends staring at you, noses scrunched as they try to figure out exactly what’s happening now. You wish you had an answer to give them, but all you can muster is this heartache shooting out of your mouth in the form of daggers.

“I don’t need you,” you spit, “I don’t need your protection.”

“It didn’t exactly look like you had that handled,” Eren scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, and what are you? My knight in shining fucking armor? Don’t you have other damsels in distress waiting for you?” It’s too far, you know that as soon as the words leave your mouth, but the liquid courage Sasha had insisted upon is making your tongue sharper than you’d anticipated.

Eren rears back from where he’s hunched to meet you on your level, nostrils flaring again. Before you can utter another word, he’s got an arm thrown around your shoulders none-too-gently, practically dragging your stumbling feet towards the exit.

“Outside.”

#hehehehehe enjoy #i love plug eren so much it hurts my head #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger series #eren jaeger fanfic #eren yeager series #attack on titan fic #aot fic #much ado about nothing #much ado uni #much ado universe

[daisynik7]

Double the Fun

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x f!reader x Reiner Braun

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Word Count: ~3.9k

cw: next-door neighbors Eren and Reiner, modern day au, all characters are mid-twenties, explicit language, p*rn no plot, smut – threesome, vaginal sex, anal sex, anal play, spit play, nipple play, cunnilingus, face-riding, blowjob, hand job (M/M), double-penetration, multiple orgasms from the reader, sex toy use (anal plug), cream pies (in both holes), Reiner is a bit of a perv and sniffs panties (just like how he sniffed Historia’s letter in the finale LOL), pet names (baby, sweetheart, sweetie), slight degradation (use of slut, cock slut, whore, and cock sleeve to address the reader), slight breeding kink, sex without a condom (assuming reader is on some form of birth control)

Summary: You’ve been having a bit of a dry spell recently with how busy you’ve been at work. When you finally manage to snag a date with one of your online dating matches, you’re unfortunately stood up, leaving you in a worse mood than before. Lucky for you, your two hot neighbors are more than willing to cheer you up.  

Author’s Notes: Phew! This one is a doozy! Please make sure you read the content warnings before reading. This is filthy and shameless; I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! I LOVE Eren and Reiner together, idk, they just always scratch this everlasting itch I have. I’m still getting used to writing threesomes, so I hope this is okay! Also, this is my first foray into butt stuff and I may have awoken something inside me, LOL. MDNI divider by the loveliest @/cafekitsune. Thank you for reading! 

Taglist: @batafuraikisu @neverlandlostchild @bloompompom @dprkento @a-listaire @man-knees @slvt-for-smut @antique-remains @aiyaaayei

part 4 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series

“Are you sure you don’t want me to sit, like, two tables away? What if this guy is sketch?” 

You can spot the obvious concern in Pieck’s voice through the speaker of your phone, which is currently face-up on top of your vanity as you get ready. You finish the last steps of your makeup, inspecting yourself in the mirror, satisfied. “Don’t worry, I’ve got pepper spray in my purse in case he tries anything funny,” you assure your best friend. It’s been a while since you last went on a proper date. Pieck’s always been a worry-wart about you meeting strangers from your online dating apps, constantly reminding you to stay vigilant. Tonight is no different. 

“You should at least let your hot neighbors know that you’re going out, so they can keep an eye out for you,” she suggests, throwing that in casually. Ever since you moved in a few months ago, she’s been rooting for you to hook up with either of the two men next door, Eren Jaeger and Reiner Braun. She’s met them plenty of times in passing and would much rather you date one of them instead of the countless of mysterious men on your current roster. 

There’s no denying that they’re attractive. Eren with his long, dark hair, striking eyes, and toned physique. Reiner with his sharp jawline, broad shoulders, and well-groomed goatee. They also happen to be incredibly friendly towards you, always greeting you in the hallway with a genuine smile, asking how your day went or what you’ll be up to. They’ve invited you for dinner on several occasions, which has always been pleasant, sometimes leaning towards the flirtatious side. You’re sure they’re just nice guys, cordial neighbors looking out for one another. There’s nothing more to it than that, even if a small part of you wants there to be. 

You step back from your reflection, checking yourself out once one more. “I’ll be fine, Pieck.”

“What if I can’t reach you? There should be at least one other person who’s aware of your whereabouts, right?” This is what binging too many true crime documentaries does. Still, you’re grateful for your friend’s concern, knowing it’s all out of love. You can tell she’s actually distressed about this, so you end up agreeing, mostly to appease her. She wishes you well before hanging up as you slip into heels by the door. 

You tug at the hem of your skimpy black dress, hand motionless on the doorknob. It’s your first date in over a month. Work has been so busy that you haven’t had time for romance or sex. The variety of sex toys tucked away in your drawer has been your only solace these past few weeks. To say you’re ready for some real action is an understatement. You’re also incredibly nervous, afraid you’ve lost your groove. That’s why you’ve taken extra measures to fully prepare yourself for anything tonight. 

With a deep breathe, you step out into the hallway, following Pieck’s advice. You knock on your neighbor’s door and Eren is the first to answer. His expression brightens when he realizes it’s you. “Hi,” he greets you, flashing that charming smile of his. He scans you up and down, taking in your appearance. “Wow.”

“Is that a good wow or a bad wow?” you grin, twirling for him. 

He swallows hard, checking you out once more. “Definitely a good wow.”

It’s that extra boost of confidence you need for this date, so you’re appreciative of him. “Thank you, Eren. You’re always so sweet.” 

He crosses his arms over his chest, smirking. “So, hot date tonight?”

You decide to be honest with him. “Yeah. It’s been a minute, so I’m a little nervous.”

“Don’t be. Any guy would be lucky to date you.” His eyes twinkle at you kindly.

You imagine Pieck screaming at you from twenty miles away, begging you to date Eren instead of going out with this random swipe right. Eren is simply a sweet guy paying his neighbor a compliment. There’s nothing more to it than that. Before you get the chance to thank him, Reiner’s deeper voice calls out from inside the apartment. “Who is it?”

Without taking his eyes off you, Eren answers with your name. Soon, the blonde joins him, jaw dropping when he notices you. “Fuck.”

Eren elbows him in the chest, to which Reiner mutters a strained apology. “Sorry. You just look amazing.”

The flattery is almost too much, cheeks warm with embarrassment, stomach fluttering. “Thank you.” Reiner is usually the more forward of the two, blurting out whatever is on his mind, though you’re not complaining. 

Grinning, Reiner asks, “So, who’s the lucky guy?”

“Someone I met online. My friend said I should let my wonderful neighbors know my whereabouts tonight, in case I end up missing,” you explain casually. 

“How morbid,” Eren chuckles. “We’ll keep an eye out for you later so that your friend doesn’t have to worry.”

“I would appreciate that.”

Reiner raises a brow at you. “Unless you’re planning on sleeping with him. We probably won’t see you if it does go well.” He hunches forward when Eren lands another blow to his chest, shutting his roommate up. 

You giggle, agreeing with him. “No, you’re totally right. I’m going to stay optimistic and say that if I don’t come home tonight, that’s a good thing.”

“We’ll hope for the best, then,” Eren replies, beaming. 

You turn to leave, waving farewell to them. Reiner yells out, “Have fun tonight! But not too much fun!”

~~~

You return to your apartment complex less than two hours later, heels clicking loudly on the tiled steps, feet heavy with disappointment. After taking a twenty-minute taxi ride to the restaurant you agreed to meet him at, you proceeded to wait an entire hour only to realize that you’ve been stood up. No text, no reply, no call. You’ve been made a fool, completely humiliated, the night and the rest of your weekend absolutely ruined by this asshole’s no-show.  

It takes you a while to dig through your purse for your keys, patience already worn thin. Frustrated, you groan out loud, staring up at the ceiling. “Why me?”

In the worst timing ever, the door to your left swings open. Eren pops his head out, saying your name curiously.

Reluctantly, you turn to face him. “Hey.”  

He comes out, dressed casually in sweats, hair wrapped in a messy bun with the few stray strands draping the back of his neck. “That was quick.”

With an unconvincing smile, trying to hide the shame that currently consumes you, you admit, “I got stood up.”

His demeanor changes instantly. The concern on his face is endearing, and when he drifts towards you, he reaches out, then drops his arm, unsure how best to console you without crossing any lines. “No way.”

You nod, sighing. “It’s true.”

“Fuck, I’m so sorry.” He steps closer to you, hesitantly placing his hand on your shoulder, testing the waters. 

You smile at him, enjoying this simple touch of comfort. “It’s fine. It is what it is.”

The two of you linger like this, Eren gazing into your eyes, holding you. His palm is hot on the fabric of your dress, and for a split second, you wonder how pleasant it’d be on your bare skin. And maybe it’s your wishful thinking or your desperation for human contact after being rejected tonight, but you can feel the heat of a spark between you now. Before you let your fantasies drive you to do something unprecedented, you search your bag again, finally retrieving your keys. He lets you go, watching you shove them into the keyhole, unlocking the door. “Are you okay?”

In all honestly, you’re not, but there’s nothing him or anyone else can do about it, right? “I’ll be okay. Sucks that I got all dressed up for this, though. What a waste.”

He doesn’t respond right away, choosing his words carefully. “Well,” he starts, the faintest blush tinged on his cheeks. “It doesn’t have to be.” 

You stare at him, heart beating faster, making sure you’re understanding him correctly. “Really?”

He clears his throat, licking his lips. “Yeah. Maybe we can get some use out of it.”

“We?”

As if on cue, Reiner emerges from inside their apartment, having heard everything. “Fuck that shitty asshole. You’ll have way more fun with us.” He stands next to his roommate, grinning at you.

This time, you do listen to Pieck’s voice in your head, yelling at you to go for it. To let these two alluring neighbors of yours take care of you the way you deserve. Already feeling better, you give them a coy smile, opening the door to let them in. “Okay, then. Come on in.”

~~~

It’s the first time they’ve ever been inside your apartment, though you save the formal tour for later. As soon as the three of you are inside, door shut, shoes off, they’re both kissing you fiercely. Eren faces you, slipping his tongue into your mouth, hot and heavy. He caresses your sides, squeezing the curves of your body through your dress. Reiner is behind you, grip just below Eren’s, firm on your hips. His lips brush delicately on the nape of your neck, groin pressed to your backside, the bulge protruding from his pants growing harder and harder between your ass cheeks. You moan into the kiss, pussy throbbing in your lingerie, eager to be touched by either man, by both of them. Why did you even bother trying to hook up with strangers online when the perfect matches were beside you all along?

Reiner chuckles, breath hot on your ear, voice low and rugged. “You’re really horny, aren’t you? All dolled up and ready to be fucked, huh?” There he goes again, blunt and straightforward and so fucking sexy, exactly what you need tonight. 

And here is Eren, soft and gentle, committed to kissing you, whispering sweet nothings any chance he gets. “You’re beautiful. Such a gorgeous girl. So pretty for us.” Also exactly what you need. 

You lead them into your bedroom, Eren flipping on the light switch, keeping his lips on you while Reiner strips out of his clothes, starting with his pants. Eren does the same, hoisting his shirt off, revealing his impressive figure. You attempt to slip out of your dress, but Reiner stops you. “Keep it on,” he rasps, down to his underwear now, boner more obvious, poking out from his briefs.  

Eren pinches your butt, snapping the tight fabric to your skin. “We’re not letting this go to waste, remember?”

You nod mindlessly, brain hazy with lust, too eager to be fucked. “Fuck me,” you beg, spit smeared all over your lips. 

They both laugh softly, walking you towards the bed. “So impatient, so needy,” Eren coos, positioning himself in front of you, toying with the hem of the skirt.

Reiner sits up against the headboard, propping you up on his lap, your back pressed to his muscular chest. “What’s the rush, baby?” he teases, licking a stripe behind your ear. “We’re going to take care of you. Right, Eren?”

Eren bites his lip as he works your dress up past your thighs until it’s bunched up at your hips, exposing your soaked thong on your wet cunt. “Oh fuck yeah,” he huffs, salivating. “Gonna make you feel so good. Make you come so fucking much.”

You spread your legs wider for him, a pathetic whine escaping your throat, more and more desperate by the second. He hooks his finger on the crotch of your panties, smirking at the string of arousal that stretches between the fabric and you. “So fucking wet, holy shit.” 

He tugs it all the way off your legs, tossing it over to Reiner, who brings it up to his nose, taking a big whiff. “Such a slut for wearing these on a first date. Our naughty girl.” He lets your lingerie fall from his grasp onto the floor, sliding to the plush of your thighs, keeping your legs spread apart. 

Eren dives in, spreading his wide tongue flat on your clit, moving it side-to-side, stimulating you into your first orgasm. Your knees twitch from the sensation, the pleasure rippling through you like waves of ecstasy. You turn your head towards Reiner’s, opening your mouth, pleading him for a kiss. He obliges, sticking his tongue inside you, slurping up your saliva, hungry for it. “You’re so fucking nasty,” he growls, reaching for the drawer beside the bed. “Bet you have toys hiding in here. Why don’t we have some more fun and play with them?” You whimper wantonly, keen on the idea of Reiner using whatever he wants on you to make you come again. 

He finds exactly what he’s looking for: your precious anal plug, tapered on one end, heart-shaped gem on the other. When he pulls it out, he barks out a laugh, almost like he can’t believe his luck. “You really are a whore,” he whispers in your ear, sinister and wicked, about to have too much fun with this. “Did you prep yourself to be fucked in the ass? Be honest.” Even Eren pauses, peering up at you, curious. 

“Yes,” you mewl, squirming with arousal, body tingling all over.

Eren’s chuckle reverberates against your clit, releasing you from his mouth to lap at your wet slit. “Good girl,” he muffles, collecting your cum on his tongue. “So perfect for us.”

The dynamic between them spurs you on, Eren playing the good guy, Reiner playing bad. Both of them work together with a common goal in mind: to cheer up their pretty neighbor from what would have been a bummer of a night. But already, you’re thankful that you were stood up; you’re certain now that this is the much better alternative. 

“Eren, switch spots with me,” Reiner demands. “And you,” he says, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “On your stomach.”

You both obey him without protest. Eren leans against the headboard with a dazed look in his eyes, licking his shiny, cum-coated lips. He smiles as you gaze up at him, wrapping your fingers around his shaft, stroking him. You open wide, tapping the tip of his dick on your tongue before sinking down on him until you’re too the hilt, swallowing him into the back of your throat. He cups yours cheeks, caressing you gently. “So fucking pretty with my cock in your mouth. My gorgeous girl.” You accept the praise shamelessly, relishing the distinct taste of him.

From behind, Reiner worships you, squeezing your ass cheeks, spreading them apart to ogle at your fluttering hole. Without warning, he hocks a frothy wad of spit directly onto it, teasing his thumb on the rim. “Fuck, baby,” he utters as you moan on Eren’s cock. “I’m gonna put it in now, okay?”

You nod, taking Eren deeper, your nose pressed to his groin, drool leaking from the sides of your mouth, bracing yourself. The plug is slick with lube as Reiner pushes it in carefully until the heart-shaped jewel is flush to your hole. He swears under his breath, marveling at the sight before him, cock pulsating in his fist. You stay like this for a while, adjusting to the toy inside you. It really did help that you prepared for this earlier. 

“So sexy,” Eren murmurs from above you, staring on your backside. “You take it so good, sweetheart.”

“Like an obedient slut,” Reiner adds, using his thumb to push the plug the slightest bit deeper. He lifts your hips to position himself below you so that you’re straddling his face. “Can you come again, baby?”

“Of course she can. She’s our good girl,” Eren purrs, petting your head softly as you continue to blow him. 

Reiner eats you out sloppily, different from Eren, who’s intentional with his every move. It sends you into another frenzy, pushing you closer and closer over the edge, especially when he begins playing with the plug, pumping it in and out of you slowly. You’re overstimulated with Eren’s hot cock throbbing in your mouth, clit swollen on Reiner’s tongue, and asshole puckered around the smooth glass of the plug. You reach your climax easily, gushing all over Reiner’s face, riding out your orgasm until you’ve completely soaked him in your juices. He drinks it all up, messy and greedy for every drop of you he can scour. He really is as insatiable as you imagined he’d be. 

You release Eren to catch your breath, to which he tips your chin up to face him. “You’re incredible,” he says, the familiar twinkle in his eyes making your heart race. You paw at his chest, crawling up to meet him for a kiss. 

Reiner quickly joins the two of you, not wanting to be left out, rubbing his hard cock between your ass cheeks. You kiss the both of them at the same time, all of your saliva mingling together into a hot, wet mess that you’re currently intoxicated by. After a moment, Eren pulls back. “Does our pretty girl want to get fucked now?”

“Show us how big of a cock slut you are,” Reiner grunts, circling the jeweled end of the plug, teasing your hole. 

Eren helps remove the dress off you completely, hoisting it off your body. He stretches his arm towards the drawer. “Are the condoms in here too?”

You shake your head briskly, bringing his attention back to you. “I want it raw. Want you to fill me up.” 

They both moan, clearly fond of your request, kissing you feverishly. Eren nudges your breast into his mouth, latching onto your nipple. Reiner sucks the skin all along your neck, leaving his love marks, growling, “You want us to breed you, huh? Want all this cum inside these tight little holes of yours. Oh fuck.” His voice is rough and husky, gradually losing his composure. 

Eren’s remains tender, his breath soft on your bosom. “We’re going to breed you so good, sweetheart.” He shimmies down the bed, lying flat on his back, peering up at you with adoration. You straddle him, rubbing yourself on his shaft, needy for friction on your aching clit.

Reiner’s embraces you from behind, groping your chest, focusing on his roommate’s dick and your wet cunt gliding along it. He reaches between you and Eren, fisting his friend’s cock with fast strokes. “Look how hard he is for you. He’s going to fuck you so good. Make you cream all over the sheets.” Your pussy is sopping with arousal from the dirty talk alone, but watching Reiner touch Eren has you dizzy. 

“Fuck, Reiner,” Eren moans, throat bobbing as he swallows hard. “That’s so fucking hot.” He lets his roommate jerk him off while you continue to grind yourself on him. Soon, he replaces Reiner’s fist with his own, cockhead glistening with precum. “Are you ready, sweetheart?”

Reiner moves to your swollen bud, tapping it with his thick fingers. “Oh yeah, she’s fucking ready. Come on, cock sleeve. Put it in.”

Without wasting another second, you line yourself up with him. Eren slides in smoothly, his entire length in you, pussy stretched around him perfectly. You whimper from the fullness, his cock to the hilt and the plug nestled in your backside. Reiner places his hand on your posterior, urging you to lean down so that your chest-to-chest with Eren, who kisses you passionately, remaining still inside you. “Eren,” you whimper his name, drooling into his mouth. He smiles against you, delighted at how fucked out you are for him.

Reiner adjusts his stance, hovering over you by planting one foot on the bed to prop his knee up, giving him enough leverage. He focuses on the plug, tugging it out just barely only to push it back in, repeating this several times, causing you to cry out in pleasure. Finally, he removes it completely, staring wide-eyed at your gaping hole, oh-so-inviting for his fat cock. “Look at that,” he croons, circling your rim with his finger, sensitive to his touch.

You want so badly to be stuffed full by both of them. In a trembling voice, you whine, “Please, Reiner.”

Laughing, he delivers a harsh smack to your ass, skin immediately stinging from it. He dribbles more of his spit onto you, teasing the tip of his dick on the rim. “Not yet, slut.” You can’t see him, too immersed in kissing Eren right now, but you can practically hear the wicked grin on his face, watching you squirm below him as he torments you.

Eren intervenes, annoyed with his friend’s behavior. “Come on, Reiner. Give her what she wants. She deserves it.” He nuzzles his nose to yours. “She’s been a very, very good girl.”

Eventually, Reiner relents. “You’re right. She’s a good girl. And good girls deserve to get fucked in both holes.” 

You shiver at his perverse words, bracing yourself. At last, he guides himself inside you, filling you to the brim. It’s better than any fantasy you could dream of, the sensation so intense, tears begin welling in your eyes.

They start thrusting simultaneously, Eren pummeling your cunt from below, Reiner pounding your ass from behind. It’s messy and raunchy, their hands slippery all over your body from lube, slick, and sweat. The air surrounding you is laden with lust and desire. The collective moans from all three of you echo off the walls of your small bedroom, along with the squeaks of your mattress creaking under the weight of your vigorous lovemaking. 

Reiner is rendered speechless now, totally concentrated on pumping his cock in and out of your fluttering hole, the only sound from his mouth being his ragged breaths. Eren slips one hand between you, his digits pressed to your puffy clit as he fucks up into your pussy. The other fondles your tit, thumb flicking your nipple until it’s perky. He continues to praise you, constantly musing about what a good girl you are, how perfect you are for them. 

At this point, you’ve lost track of how many times you’ve come. You’re in a perpetual state of ecstasy, surrounded by the two hottest men in your life who are voracious for your orgasms. The sour memory from earlier has completely faded and all you can think about is the sweet bliss you’re currently indulging in. 

Eren is the first to come, no longer able to endure it. His even thrusts turn erratic. “Fuck, I’m coming. I’m coming inside you sweetheart, oh fuck.”

You kiss him languidly, drinking up his moans as he floods your cunt with his load. Soon, Reiner swears loudly, announcing his own climax. “Fuck, gonna breed this slutty hole.” His cock swells, spurting his warm seed inside you.

You relax on top of Eren, who’s equally as spent as you. Reiner pulls out slowly, fixated on his own cum dripping out of you. “Fuck. Let’s see the other one, baby.” You lift off Eren, who almost seems reluctant to let you go. Both of them watch with hazy expressions as his creamy load spills out of you and onto his lap. 

The room is musty with the scent of sex, the sheets messy and stained beneath you. Despite that, you’re on cloud nine, soaring high from having the nastiest ménage á trois with your next-door neighbors.

Maybe you should try getting stood up more often. 

#eren smut #reiner smut #eren x reader #eren x you #eren jaeger #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger x you #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager smut #reiner x you #reiner x reader #reiner braun smut #reiner braun x reader #reiner braun x you #aot smut #aot x reader #to all the boys who live next door #anthology series #eren x reader x reiner

[mochimooon]

DTF Only - aot x reader 18+ masterpost and prologue - complete!

Summary: Barely twenty-four hours after getting dumped by your now ex-boyfriend, Colt, your best friends are quick to conspire your next course of action: slutting yourself out on Tinder.  Prologue word count: 1k+ Notes: Welcome to the world of online dating, featuring the men of AoT !! This was a project I started back in September, loosely based on my own (and my best friend's) weird encounters with online dating. Lighthearted, smutty, not to be taken seriously, this fic is pure crack. Although it does have a plot, it's not necessary to read every chapter if you just want to skip to your favorite AoT guy (each chapter is linked). Also, all characters (except two) are written to be in their early 30s. Lastly, the headers used don't directly depict what actually happens in the fics. Afab! reader using she/her pronouns Warnings: smut in every chapter (except prologue), explicit content, explicit language, lots of casual sex (more warnings included per chapter), mild Colt-bashing available to read on ao3

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+ !!

Happy Hour — Porco Galliard Out of Towner — Reiner Braun Let's Experiment — Connie Springer Girl Dinner — Jean Kirstein DTF — Zeke Jaeger Tinder Whore — Eren Jaeger Super Like — Levi Ackerman taglist: @moonmalice @daisynik7 @theragethatisdesire @squidalapobre @arlerts-angel @shepnicolo @porples-blog @jeanboyjean @fictional-d-supremacy

“Time to enter the hoe phase.”

Pieck’s eyes light up in Ymir’s direction, and together they turn to you with mischievous grins. 

Barely twenty-four hours after getting dumped by your now ex-boyfriend, Colt, your best friends are quick to conspire your next course of action: slutting yourself out on Tinder. 

It feels like a movie. Meeting up with your girlfriends on a Saturday night for overpriced margaritas (on them thankfully) to catch up and console you as you process the breakup. 

The only difference between you and those heartbroken women on screen is that you don’t know how to feel. You’re not sad, you’re not happy, you’re indifferent. 

Three years together you and Colt had settled into a routine. He lived an hour away, but you both put in the effort to see each other. You don’t know when things turned stagnant, only that the spark had fizzled a long time ago. The phone calls and visits became forced, and the sex…

“You’re single now,” Ymir explains, crunching on a tortilla chip. “Got to make up for lost time. Didn’t you say Colt was too stiff in bed?”

Heat blazes beneath your skin. “I never said that.” 

Colt was not stiff in bed. He was selfless, ready to please, prioritizing your needs first before he got in his kicks. You liked having sex with him, didn’t need the grandeur to enjoy it—

Ymir and Pieck deadpan in your direction. Without further rebuttal, you fall speechless, and to your friends that’s as good as a confession.

You hate them (you don’t). You hate that they’re right.

Although the sex did the job, it lacked the passion that was once there when you two first started dating a lifetime ago. Eventually you grew a little bored. It became repetitive, lackluster even, that you were only half-satisfied by the end of each session. To feed your sexual appetite, you resorted to your vibrator more and more, a toy that you had initially purchased for you and Colt to use together.

“Anyways…” Ymir drawls. “He’s history and so is the vanilla sex. Now, you can let your inner sex fiend out.”

You roll your eyes “You mistake me for someone else.”

Ymir snorts, leveling you with a knowing look. “Yeah right. You weren’t a Puritan before you met Colt. If online dating was more of a thing back in our twenties, you would have been kicking and slipping every night of the week, more than you already were.”

Your skin heats up again, burning the tips of your ears. Sure, in your twenties, you were what some would call ‘floozy’ in nature back then. In your defense, you were a university student, out on your own, and you were definitely not the only person partaking in hookup culture. Now, at thirty, with how normalized it is, you know you’re not the last one either.  If anything, being in a relationship these days is more of an anomaly. 

“Not judging you for your relationship by the way,” Pieck says as a buffer. “Colt’s a nice guy, but he did water you down, you stopped coming out—”

You turn to her. “It’s because—”

“He’s a lightweight, yeah, yeah,” Ymir supplies, bored. “You were too much for him. You’re fun, and Colt?” Ymir’s dark eyes go into orbit. “—snooze.”

As much as you’d like to defend your ex-boyfriend’s honor, your mind draws a blank.

“His loss.” Pieck licks the rim of her margarita glass.

Ymir crunches on another chip, smiling wryly. “Back to my genius idea: Tinder. You’ll have so many options now. You don’t need to find your next boyfriend on it, just meet new people and be down to fuck only."

She says it so simply, but you can’t help feeling like there’s a catch. 

“There’s no better place to explore sexual freedom than on Tinder,” Pieck says. “Scope out the market, see what you’ve been missing out on.” 

You take a hearty sip of the margarita, lip curling. “I don’t even know how to date anymore.”

Pieck tuts. “No one does. There’s no formula either. Tinder requires an open mind, if you overthink it, then you’re not doing it right.”

“It’s about getting to know yourself better while also getting laid. It’s a win-win,” Ymir says. “There’s nothing for you to lose, only gain.”

You raise a brow. “Doesn’t that seem…wrong? We just broke up.”

Pieck blinks, lowering her margarita. “Do you think Colt’s just sulking around?” 

You shake your head. “No, that’s not what I mean. He can go on dates, I guess. It’s just that it feels so new and so soon.” 

As you hear yourself, you realize how unsure you sound. Since Colt dumped you, it’s pointless to expect that he’d waste any time before diving back into the dating pool. If that’s what he’s doing, you’re not bothered by it. And the guilt you expect to feel for considering an idea like online dating is nowhere to be seen either. 

Perhaps it’s your way of making sense of why you feel so…nonchalant about the whole thing. Is there a politically or morally correct way to behave after a break-up?

“Of course not!” Ymir says with a lighthearted scoff. “The second you become a free agent, you can do whatever and whoever you want. Emphasis on the ‘free’ part.”

She’s right, you suppose. 

Ymir takes your brief silence to further argue her idea. “The whole point is to have fun, no strings. If you’re not going to wallow, then get out there and be a hoodrat."

Pieck laughs, and you feel the mood lighten. 

It’s not a bad idea. You’re still not sure how to process the break-up. You’re not hurt, but you are in this limbo of where to go from here. Carry on like normal? Cry? Neither align with your state of mind. 

You’re not hard to convince, reaching for your phone and downloading the app. “Let’s see what’s up.”

A look passes between your friends that could only be described as impish. You bite back the urge to roll your eyes and set up your profile. 

After Pieck and Ymir guide you on what to add to your bio, what you’re looking for, help you pick out the best selfies etc., the true fun begins. 

In the beginning it’s awkward, reading and checking a person’s pictures and deem whether he you want to talk to them. But it doesn’t take long for you to ease into it.  

The coaxing and the margarita might have played roles, but after a few profiles, it becomes an addiction. 

Swiping one after another, skimming through varying profiles (a lot of them have their height included), questionable choices of selfies (many shirtless at the gym), it’s all a rush that the three of you had far too much fun crowding over your phone that night. 

“Why does he have a screenshot of his credit score?” Pieck balks. 

“No fucking way, that guy’s in a diaper?” Ymir’s eyes go wide.  “This one says he and his wife want to be a throuple.” You swipe left.   

At some point, you do swipe right on a couple of profiles, purely based on their looks, hardly giving their bios a proper onceover.

At the end of the night, you’re past the point of tipsy, tired, but pleased to have had a fun night with your best friends. As you doze off in bed that night, your phone lights up with several new notifications on your nightstand. 

#aot x reader #aot fanfiction #levi ackerman x reader #attack on titan #porco galliard x reader #zeke jaeger x reader #reiner braun x reader #connie springer x reader #jean kirstein x reader #eren jaeger x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #eren yeager x reader #zeke yeager x reader #aot smut #mochi-writings #dtf only series

[chrollohearttags]

and so it begins….EJ vs. Connie: part 1 who team you on?? ☠️☠️ (picture credit to @levisbaldheadedwh0re for the last tweet!!)

#musician x influencer au #social media au #aot au #aot smau #aot x black reader #eren x black fem!reader #connie springer #eren jaeger #eren yeager #reverb series #eren x y/n #musician au #eren aot #connie aot #black reader #crack post #aot #attack on titan #attack on titan au #bout to be the best rap beef ever #black fem reader #musician eren #rapper connie #aot onyankopon #armin artlert #eren x black reader #cw suggestive #humor post #fake tweets #fake social media

[bloompompom]

Trending Now! Beloved, international pop sensation was spotted getting hot and heavy with the lead vocalist of Devil's Paradise, Eren Jaeger, at an after-party, sparking rumors of a secret fling. The unlikely couple has yet to comment publicly on the status of their relationship, but their scandal-worthy PDA alone implies they must know each other very well. 

Ha! That couldn’t be any further from the truth.

♡ pairings: rockstar!eren jaeger x popstar!female reader, eren jaeger x historia reiss ♡ content: ~7.1k word count. enemies-to-lovers, sexual themes, explicit language, alcohol, dubcon elements (drunken kissing), slut shaming. reader discretion advised. ♡ next chapter | series masterlist

★ Chapter One ★

You learn the hard way that what happens at the after-party doesn’t stay at the after-party.

Much to your dismay, the sun shone much brighter up on the twelfth floor. A beam hit the glass table just right, casting a near-blinding glare straight into your eyes. You’d think they’d try and tint the windows or something, at least.

If this morning wasn’t such a tizzy—if you hadn’t been rushed from your apartment without so much as a 'good morning'—perhaps you would’ve thought to grab your sunglasses. You could have really used them now, even in the middle of this meeting. But no, you were forced to decide between burning your retinas or facing the patronizing set of eyes opposite you.

You found the former was less torturous despite aggravating the pounding in your head.

You didn’t know the last time you had a hangover. It was worse than you remembered, but if there was ever a time to get plastered, you supposed last night’s after-party was it.

It was the Monday following a weekend-long music festival, one of the largest—no, the largest of the year. As Saturday’s headliner, the last few months of your life were rightfully grueling, bouncing from one rehearsal to the next. Finally, you could celebrate that your hard work had paid off and come to an end—hence, the after-party. 

Last night was well-deserved. It was a break from your meticulously and artificially crafted life. Where everything on-stage and off, even down to when you could pee, was choreographed. Your manager, Pieck, tried to convince you to stay in last night—said you needed the rest. But you blew her off. There was no chance in hell you were going to miss that party.

And that was exactly how you ended up here, hungover, swallowing the bitter taste pooling on the back of your tongue, awaiting your slap on the wrist for letting the tiniest bit loose. 

In hindsight, you should have listened to Pieck. Of course, you’d never admit that to her, considering she was the one who had dragged you from bed and plopped you right into the lion’s pit. 

Not long ago, you woke up to the midday sun. You didn’t have to open your eyes to know. It was warm behind your eyelids and gave your temples their own heartbeat.

You flopped around your bed in your best attempt at getting comfortable again. Only for a few more minutes, then the room started spinning. With palms pressed into the mattress, you threw your achy body out of bed. In just your underwear, you wore your duvet like a cape. You followed the trail of last night’s clothes and waddled like a sleepy toddler to your kitchen. 

The clock on your oven read 1:34 p.m. While it was surprising that no one had come to bother you yet, you were grateful, and you certainly didn't question it. 

Now, you were sure it was that exact thought that jinxed your day.

Not even an hour later, there was a pounding at your door. It was like someone wanted to beat the damn thing down. There was only one person who’d come knocking like that. 

What made it worse was that you had just dipped into the tub. You had even brought a bagel along with you. Plain and untoasted because you were too lazy to wait on it, but it was breakfast nonetheless.

You slid around on the porcelain. When you were out of the bath, fumbling with your robe, you nearly slipped on the tile, feet wet and pattering as you scampered to the door. The pounding continued. You swore your head was close to imploding. Or exploding—whichever was worse.

You swung the door open and found Pieck’s fist in the air, ready to strike again. She did not look happy.

If you were to be brutally honest, Pieck had a horrendous case of resting bitch face. It was okay for you to say that because it was something she’d say about herself. You only mentioned it now because the RBF was much more intense than usual.

She let herself inside. “Impromptu meeting. I need you ready in fifteen.”

“Can’t this wait?” You closed the door behind her. “I’m, like, violently hungover right now.”

“I thought you might be.”

You didn’t care for her tone. You hugged your robe to your chest as you asked, “What’s this about?”

She waved you off. “Just go get ready. You only have fourteen minutes now.” 

You were too groggy to argue. With your head hung like a sad puppy, you sauntered off to drain the hot, sudsy bath calling your name. You threw on a comfortable outfit—a matching set of shorts and a sweatshirt you’d wear to grab a coffee—and tried to make yourself slightly presentable. Pieck shouted for you to hurry while you were brushing your teeth. You yelled back at her as you rinsed and spat. Nothing out of the ordinary.

The car ride was awkward. Pieck sat in the back with you like always, but she was across from you rather than at your side. You couldn’t tear your eyes from her tapping foot as she asked you, “You seriously have no idea what this is about?”

“No, but you’re freaking me out,” you admitted.

If she was going to keep up the cryptic schtick, then you’d have to take matters into your own hand. You reached for your phone only to realize you didn’t have pockets, let alone a single clue as to where your phone was. Truthfully, you weren’t even sure how you made it home last night.

Pieck asked, “You remember going to the after-party, right?”

“Obviously.” You extended an open hand to her. “Give me your phone.”

She swatted you away. “Did you meet anyone?”

She clearly wasn’t going to lay off the subject, nor was she about to let you use her phone. What was once nausea had turned into a gnawing in your stomach. You wondered what you’d find if she gave it to you.

Pieck repeated the question as if you didn’t hear her the first time. You chose to humor her, staring up at the roof as if the answer lived there. But outside of the first few rounds of drinks, everything else was a blur to you, like someone had smudged a grubby finger across the memory.

“I don’t know.” You were muttering now. “Probably? It was a party.”

The longer you thought about last night, the sicker you felt. You could smell the vodka like someone had blown their boozy breath right in your face. That, and something reminiscent of vanilla were stuck in your nose. What a strange jump. Perhaps you enjoyed your fair share of vanilla vodka last night. That would explain the hangover, wouldn’t it?

Pieck pressed further. “Anyone from Devil’s Paradise?”

The car started to feel suffocating. Pieck’s interrogation only made it worse, like a smothering hand around your throat. You hadn’t thrown up yet, as far as you knew, and you weren’t about to now. 

You rested your forehead against the cool glass of the window. “Devil’s Paradise? I don’t even know what that is. It sounds like a bad b-horror movie or something.”

When you glanced over to her, she was staring at you as though you were some lost cause. She topped it off with her signature eye twitch. That always happened whenever she held back from tearing into you.

She eventually sighed. “I’ll just wait and have them tell you.”

Them. 

You didn’t pay attention during the drive; you were occupied with trying to swallow down the few bites of bagel you managed. You didn’t notice when the car took a left instead of its usual right or which highway the driver merged onto. You thought it was a mistake when you stepped out of the car. This wasn’t your record label’s building.

Pieck slammed the car door behind her, dashing right on by to the front doors.

Nope, there was no mistake. You had the right place. 

You nearly had to jog to catch the elevator before it left without you. Pieck’s foot started tapping in there, too. You counted every anxious beat as you rode to the twelfth floor. With the ding of the elevator, you stepped into the silent hallway.

With just as much intention as before, Pieck marched down the halls and led you to a large room. It was filled with more people than you had anticipated, crowded around a conference table. The gnawing in your stomach only worsened.

You felt Pieck’s hand on your back. You wanted to think it was her subtle way of checking in with you, but you knew she was asking you to take a seat.

Your eyes went to the faces you recognized first, two representatives from your record label that you shamefully couldn’t name right now. Everyone wore the same resting bitch face that Pieck had on; you must have missed the memo. You scanned over the rest of them, all unfamiliar, until your eyes fell on the tight-lipped expression of the only other person seated. 

Then it came back to you. In bits and pieces, of course.

♡ ♡ ♡

Pieck warned you to be on your best behavior before you left for the night. She always did that, though, in hopes you’d listen. Most of the time, you did, but tonight was an exception.

You had just two intentions for the night, and you made her aware of them. The first, to enjoy all the alcohol you had to skip out on over the last few months. The second, to wake up in someone else’s bed. Preferably someone with long hair. You liked having something to tug on.

As expected, Pieck didn’t love the plan, but thankfully, the TMI bomb grossed her out enough to lay off. 

Though she assured you otherwise, that was the real reason Pieck didn’t want you to go out. She had instructed you to treat every event—even the very exclusive and very overrated ones—as if it were any other public appearance. Your stylist only echoed the statement, which also explained why you were stuffed into a dress you had to tug down every other minute. 

While it wasn’t a dress you would have chosen for yourself, objectively, it was a gorgeous dress. Flattering, too, shaping your ass into that picturesque, squeezable heart shape. It was slinky and silver and glimmered with every step, drawing attention to you like you were a dolled-up disco ball. You even said those very words to your stylist. She didn’t find it as funny as you did. 

In fact, the dress was so gorgeous, especially under the fluorescent bathroom lights, that it caught the attention of Mikasa—

Shit. You couldn’t remember her last name. 

Anyway, Mikasa fawned over your dress as you washed your hands, introducing herself as you made your way back to the bar. You asked tons of questions you wouldn’t have if you were sober—every one pertaining to her being a bassist, which you found incredibly fascinating, drunk or not. You shared a drink together, then a shot, and talked all about it. 

No, talked wasn’t the best word for it. It was more like you listened to her, googly-eyed, entirely swept up in how she carried herself. She was graceful despite the liquor and already less reserved than the version of her you met in the bathroom. You wondered if she, like you, needed an excuse to let loose for once. 

You were sure Pieck would have also advised against the margarita Mikasa ordered for you, but how could you say no? The two of you had called each other bestie at least five times in the last thirty minutes. And while you planned on sticking to vodka tonight, you needed the liquid courage to complete your mission of ending the night underneath (or on top of) someone. 

Mikasa clinked her glass to yours for the umpteenth time that night—a toast to nothing in particular. Her tongue poked past her plum-painted lips, blindly searching for her straw. She snagged a sip as she told you that she and ‘the guys’ had a bungalow outside, over by the pool—said you should totally come and crash. 

Once again, how were you supposed to say no?

She led you there, your hand in hers, like a couple of schoolgirls out at recess. She smelt nice—jasmine and something warm, maybe vanilla. You found it intoxicating as you kept close behind.

The event was held at a rooftop lounge. It was a scene hidden behind stained glass, obscured by a mix of colors and lights. The pale glow of the moon against the starless city sky. The crystal blue of the pool—so clear that you knew it only served as decoration. Numbingly-pink neon lights reflected from your dress and sparkled onto Mikasa.

The bungalows were on the far side of the pool. They were reserved for those that needed to kick their feet up after performing earlier in the day, much like ‘the guys’ seemed to be doing. In the center was a firepit, marbled and sleek, lined with empty glasses—more than plenty of them, too, between the three men on the L-shaped couch. They looked at you, varying levels of interest on their faces, like you were something to eat.

Tonight’s mission just got a whole lot easier. 

“Who’s your friend?”

The one in the middle posed the question. Sat in the corner of the L, he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, his drink lightly swirling in his hand. His ash-brown hair was styled into a mullet—if styled was still applicable since it was now falling into his inquiring eyes. He kept them on you even though he was talking to Mikasa.

“Ha-ha, Jean. Don’t be rude,” she answered before you could. She introduced you the same way everyone did, as if to say, ‘You don’t know who this is? Have you been living under a rock?’ She looped an arm around yours, still as best of besties as ever. “She’s our guest.”

“I thought we told you to stop taking strays,” the one to Jean’s left said. His smile captured his entire face when he laughed, louder than you expected. But then again, based on the number of glasses surrounding the trio, you assumed anything would make him double over. 

“You guys are such dicks,” Mikasa sneered. 

Her hold on your arm tightened to a lock. She tugged you to the couch, sitting you between her and the last of ‘the guys.’ The one who hadn’t spoken up yet.

Jean grinned. “I’m not being a dick. I’m just wondering why she’d want to hang out with you.”

Mikasa’s face soured. Before she could bark back, Mr. Quiet finally spoke up, his voice deep and uninterested. “Leave her alone.”

“C’mon, man. We’re just messing around. Besides, it was Shit on Connie Day all fucking day. She deserves it,” the guy who referred to you as Mikasa’s stray said. Based on his tone, it was safe to assume he was Connie.

“It’s Shit on Connie Day every day,” Jean snickered.

“That’s what I’m trying to say! Now let me shit on Mikasa!” Connie’s eyes went wide right after he said it. Jean threw his head back in wild, drunken laughter. Connie could hardly contain his own, even as he slapped Jean’s arm and said, “No! Not like—you know what I meant!”

Your attention was stolen once Mr. Quiet leaned in close. He placed his arm on the back of the couch, behind you, like he wanted to wrap it around your shoulder. Quiet, but he certainly wasn’t shy, was he?

“Don’t listen to them. They’re fucking idiots around hot girls.” His voice was now deep and interested. 

It was forward, but you appreciated it. You had drunk just enough for some shameless flirting. You ran through the basics—smiling at him, coyly biting at your bottom lip to draw his eye. It worked, as expected, and he was bold enough to let his gaze linger there, on your mouth. 

You inched closer to him, your drink hanging heavy in your fingertips. “Oh, so you think I'm hot?”

He didn’t break eye contact. The flame’s light speckled in the green of his eyes. There was a playfulness in them, past the sulky and lascivious thing he had going on. “Like you don’t know it.”

You gifted him a giggle, soft but still enough to crack him. You could tell he had a flashy smile just by the hint she showed you, playing at the corner of his lips. It sent a jolt through you, that smile, like a zap right to your chest. 

“Eren,” he introduced. “Eren Jaeger.” He said it like it was supposed to mean something to you. It didn’t, and your expression remained just as placid as before. He shrugged. “Fair enough.”

When you gave him your name, he only replied, “I know.”

Mikasa was too drunk to pick up on this—whatever it was that was happening between you and Eren. The tension between you was thick enough for Jean and Connie to ‘grab a drink,’ but Mikasa didn’t get the hint. Even after Eren slipped his arm around you, for real this time, his fingers grazing over your shoulder before giving you a light squeeze. 

You were practically beaming at Eren because you were drunk and found him gorgeous, and not in the way that you needed alcohol to find him gorgeous. His precise features matched the night so well that you wondered if he’d look out of place during the day. The bridge of his nose and the crests of his cheeks were dusted pink, most likely from the alcohol and a day spent on a sun-hot stage.

He had nice hair, too, just like you wanted. Dark and long enough to brush over his sculpted shoulders. It went without saying he was confident, but he wore it well. Like the type of guy who got laid a lot but actually might know what he was doing because he got laid a lot. Lucky you.

Mikasa was oblivious to this, blabbering on and on. It was probably for the best, or else you would have found it a tad embarrassing—how unabashedly you were making eyes at Eren, just how closely he sat beside you.

You missed her reason behind it, but suddenly, she jumped to her feet and skipped off. She must have seen someone she knew, flinging her arms around them for a hug. She seemed to make friends easily. She was the reason you were here, after all, drunk and carelessly draping your legs over her bandmate’s lap. You liked that he wasn’t afraid to touch you while you talked.

Both of Eren’s hands were on you now, one still resting on your shoulder, the other smoothing over your calf. His fingers were rough, but his touch was gentle enough that you wouldn’t have noticed it if not for the kindling trail he left behind, somehow burning hotter than the fire. Your legs, properly lotioned hours earlier, felt balmy even in the crisp night air. 

It wasn’t hard for Eren to admit he found you unbearingly sexy. It was undeniable at this point, what with the whole recently-bedded, yesterday’s makeup sort of thing you had going on after a long night. Your eyeliner, dark as soot, had smudged at the corner of your eyes. Your lipstick had long worn off—something he didn’t have to worry about when he’d inevitably kiss you later. 

Eren knew that you knew what you were doing, drawing him in. You were an expert at batting those lovely lashes of yours, making sure to do it as you swiped your tongue past your lips, taking kittenish licks at the salted rim of your margarita. 

“So, that band of yours,” you started. You walked your fingers up the length of his arm, mindfully stepping along each tattoo. You studied his forearm, toned and ungiving under your nails, before asking, “Do you play guitar?”

“I sing.”

You were still just as excited by his answer, chirping back. “Oh, me too!”

“I know,” he said again. His hand roamed to your knee. “But I can play the guitar, too.”

You smirked; you thought he had the arms of a guitarist. The detail piqued your interest for lots of reasons.

You admired every groove of his hand as he continued up your leg, palming over your thigh. He watched the rise and fall of your chest, heightened at his touch. Or he was simply staring at your tits. Not that you minded, of course. You weren’t shy about pushing them together, just a little.

Eren’s eyes, though lidded, had an intensity behind them. It burned at you, and you were getting tired of just looking. You wanted to touch.

You had him at this moment, you were well aware of it, which was why you were bold enough to purr, “You must be good with your hands then.”

It wasn’t subtle, but he didn’t seem to mind. Not that you thought he would, considering he started this. The hem of your dress was already dangerously high on your thigh as he toyed with it.

“How about I let you be the judge of that?” His voice was suggestive, matching the smile curving his lips, one you wanted to taste.

And he let you.

With nothing greater than the tilt of your head, your mouth was on Eren’s. And he kissed you back more than willingly. He moved thoughtfully, his lips soft against yours while maintaining a certain strength. Eagerness. Both in how he kissed you and how his hold around your thigh tightened before dragging up your hip. 

It was an intoxicating feeling—being wanted. Desired in every sense of the word. The arm he had around your shoulder pulled you in closer. The taste of him and some distinct flavor of alcohol—probably a concoction of many—swirled on your tongue. You kissed him like you could get drunker off him.

There was a fleeting second, no longer than a few blinks of the eye, in which you had forgotten where you were. And in that delicious moment, you cherished how his hand continued higher until it was at your cheek, his thumb smushing up against it. It pulled a small breath from you, something you wouldn’t dare call a moan. Whatever it was, it was swallowed by Eren as though it belonged to him.

You only broke the kiss once you felt his tongue. It wasn’t that you wanted to stop—you would have straddled him right there, even if it meant you would have split the seam of your dress. You wanted to keep kissing him. It was just that you couldn’t. Not here. 

Eren’s thumb remained on your cheek, brushing languidly. You were sure he could feel the heat of your skin, growing even warmer under the greedy look in his eyes.

“You want to get out of here?” he asked.

You knocked back the rest of your drink.

You lifted your legs from his lap like you were granting him permission to stand. He did and offered you his hand, large enough to close enclose yours and strong enough to bring you to your feet. He did it all with this everpresent calmness, as if to confirm your suspicion and say, ‘Yes, I can and will make you come tonight.’

You walked together as though you were each other’s prizes for the night. A goody-bag on your way out, if you will. 

Eren kissed you again while waiting for the elevator. He spun you around until your back was pressed to the wall with your face between his hands, fingers curving behind your ears. You felt dizzy from your last drink and him. He was a deep kisser. Commanding, too. It fit him well. 

You didn’t notice when the elevator opened its door, nor did you hear it when it closed again. You were more concerned with how good his hands felt on your skin, how good his tongue felt in your mouth, finally. You were lost in the groan—that beautiful and barely audible groan—he let escape after you yanked him in by the shirt.

It was everything a drunken kiss (and what was about to become a drunken hookup) should be. It was sloppy and desperate and not the sort of kiss your dress was meant for. You didn’t think it was possible, but the fabric was somehow even tighter with Eren’s grabbing and groping, riding up your thigh until it couldn’t anymore, even with his stubborn hand reaching for your ass.

The only pause was when he tapped the button to call the elevator again. Before its door even closed behind you, you had him backed into the far corner, your lips on his like they had never left. You started at the corner of his mouth before kissing down his neck.

Eren’s breath bordered a chuckle. He spoke so quietly that when he said, “And here I thought you’d be boring,” it was as though he was talking to himself.

You stopped to look up at him. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” he hummed. The elevator opened. “Let’s go.”

You dodged him when he went to take your hand again. Still, you followed him out because, well, you didn’t really have another choice. You had to leave the elevator somehow. You tried your best not to sound pointed when you said, “No, I want to hear why you thought I’d be boring.”

You were attracted to him, that was beyond question, but it was getting difficult to look past his sanctimonious attitude. It was the classic scenario of choosing between the devil and the angel sitting on each of your shoulders. One told you to ignore the comment for the sake of the mission, while the other waved a red flag above its little head. You didn’t know which was which. Truthfully, they could both become devils depending on what Eren said next.

He neared you in a stride, scooping your chin between his fingers. His thumb was cold this time as he caressed your cheek. There was a likeness between that and the way he said the disparaging words, “You know, considering your music.” He kept his voice sweet, like he could keep you there and pliant for him while he jabbed at you. “That’s all.”

You jerked your head back to shake off his hand. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, come on.” He spoke as if it was all self-explanatory. Like he was annoyed with you for not getting it. 

“No, please. Continue.”

“I mean, nothing about your music is very prolific. It’s about as generic as it gets.”

It was what you expected to hear but still, there was a pathetically-painful thud of embarrassment pitting deep in your stomach. 

You hissed, “You’re a fucking asshole.”

“More like the asshole you were about to fuck.”

He looked at you like you had walked right into that, smug and satisfactory. You glowered up at him, readjusting your dress as you started to shove past him. 

“Yeah, well, it was great to meet you Eren whatever your last name is, from whatever shitty band you’re in.” 

“Good one.”

You left with the tip of your chin and huff. It wasn’t as elegant as you intended; your strappy heels were too thin to support you after your last drink. But that was that, and fuck that guy.

♡ ♡ ♡

He still had that stupid smirk on his face—Eren What’s-His-Face.

You didn’t think you’d ever see him again, or at least you hoped you wouldn’t. But there he was, sitting just across from you.

What an asshole. 

Someone spoke your thoughts into existence, snapping, “Wipe that grin off your face, punk.”

The owner of the contemptuous voice was the man standing to Eren’s right. He was short, not much taller than Eren who was slumped in his seat. He had sharp-looking features that matched his dagger of a voice. Still, his eyes were bored, flitting between you and Eren like you were a couple of kids in detention. 

Pieck leaned into you and whispered, “That’s Levi Ackerman. Manager of Devil’s Paradise.”

Ackerman. That was Mikasa’s last name. Were they related? They shared some resemblances, what with their fair skin and midnight-black hair. 

You didn’t outwardly acknowledge Pieck because Levi was still glaring at you. He said, “I have a feeling I don’t need to remind you what this is about.”

As always, Pieck answered for you. “She doesn’t remember—and I haven’t told her yet.”

You actually remembered now, but it wasn’t the time to correct her.

Levi’s face didn’t light up, even as he scoffed to Eren, “Damn, Jaeger. You’re that forgettable of a kisser, huh?”

Eren rolled his eyes but stayed silent. You preferred him like that.

Levi grabbed his phone, bitterly swiping at the screen. “Maybe this will jog your memory.”

The room’s attention was brought to the television on the wall. On it, Levi had screencast an article from some high-profile gossip blog. Your heart sank before you even read the headline. Not that you needed it, anyway. They were considerate enough to include a photo that told you everything you needed to know.

You wanted to slam your head against the table.

Listen, you knew you were drunk, but were you really that drunk? Drunk enough to literally suck the face—oh my God, do you really kiss like that?—of a stranger?

Then again, you did vow to get laid last night. It wasn’t your fault you so happened to choose the wrong guy. You should have one with the one with the mullet.

The blogger at least had the courtesy to censor your ass, though there wasn’t any mistaking that Eren was pawing at it.

You were deep breathing through it, reminding yourself to be grateful that the quality was grainy and the lighting was poor. Then Levi made the picture big enough to fill the screen.

“Don’t zoom in on it!” You held your hand up like a shield. “God, my tongue is halfway down his throat.”

Eren started to laugh, but Levi cut it short with a stiff elbow to his head. You wished you thought to do that last night.

Then, in a flurry, everyone started talking. Not just talking, but talking at you. After years of it, you learned to drone it out.

Through tense flitters of eye contact with Eren, his expression as steadfast as ever, you studied him. It was a shame, really. He could have been attractive if he wasn’t like that. You struggled to remember what you saw in him last night. Whatever was there was ruined the moment he started running his mouth instead of using it to kiss you.

You were right about one thing: he did look out of place during the day. You could still make out the same features behind his sullen hangover eyes and day-old scruff—sharp jawline, thick brows looking rather broody over his green—

Was that a hickey?

Surely, that wasn’t from you. There was no way.

Your face heated up. You told yourself it was anger. 

But you were angry. Hot with it. Sticky under your sweatshirt and when you shuffled, the backs of your thighs suctioned to your chair. As much as you wanted to leave, the meeting only dragged on. From what you gathered, these were the parts that actually mattered:

This was supposed to be your funeral if not for the fact that the world woke up to your and Eren’s ship name trending on Twitter. Apparently, the two of you were a hit. Something about everyone’s favorite sweetheart pop sensation getting caught up with the industry bad boy really did it for them.

Your team pitched it to you as if it were another one of their marketing tactics. Like a milkshake and fries, you and Eren didn’t belong together but somehow, it just worked. 

Yeah, that was exactly how they put it. You thought you might get sick in your mouth, but that could have been the vodka at it again. It was vile, watching them flaunt their brilliancy around as though this was just another step in their grand plan for you. 

Your team wasn’t tactful about it when they informed you this situation didn’t align with your image. They gave you the same speech they always did—you know, think of the kids that look up to you. That type of deal. You only interrupted when you heard them use the words ‘one-night stand.’

“We didn’t hook up,” you asserted.

“Doesn’t matter,” one of your representatives said. He had this ridiculous mustache that you couldn’t help but gawk at. It had to be new. “The only thing that matters is what the fans think, and that—” He paused only to zoom in on that awful photo again. “That doesn’t scream just friends to me.”

“We’re not friends either,” you grumbled. He shot you a look. You were speaking out of turn, and Pieck reminded you of it with a sharp heel to your toes. 

Luckily for you—as Mustache phrased it—they had a solution to restore the balance in the universe.

“We’ve decided it’s best for all parties involved that you and Eren go on as if you had been in a relationship,” he said, hands clasped together. “How’s that sound?”

That last bit was only cursory. He was telling you exactly how it was going to be. Your only job was to nod and smile.

To your surprise, Pieck was the one that spoke out of turn this time. “You didn’t say anything about that on the phone!”

“It wasn’t your decision to make. We already spoke with Dad,” he knowingly said. He wasn’t talking to Pieck this time but you. Still, you each visibility tensed.

Another member of Eren’s team, one who hadn’t made a peep yet, started to break it down for you. She didn’t fit in with the rest of them, she was much softer. Her red hair was bobbed and bounced as she talked with her hands. It was clear she was trying to sell you on the idea, but she stuttered the whole way through.

Apparently, the band’s songs, even some of the older ones, had a steep increase in streams just overnight. Fans were rabidly trying to theorize which songs were written about you (ha!) because, as you just learned, Eren wrote all their songs.

She then told you that your relationship—air quotes—with Eren only needed to last until the hype died down. Maybe after a tour or two. Like that made it any better.

Her scrambling cut out when Mustache stood up, signaling the end of the meeting. He turned to you and said, “Don’t take it personally. We really don’t care what you do in your free time. Just try not to make it our business again.”

“My image—”  Cue the air quotes again. “Doesn’t have to be your business in the first place. You don’t seem to care that much about it when you put me in dresses like that.” You pointed to the picture, then to Eren next. “And it’s not like dating him makes me look like an angel.”

“You’re the only person that got yourself into this. Don’t be mad when you leave us with no choice but to clean it up.”

Pieck pinched your thigh to stay quiet. You watched while your team left the room in their weird, little flock.

The door shut behind them. All that was left was silence. It loomed over the room. You felt Levi’s glare again. When you looked at him, you couldn’t read his expression. You shook it off by the time they started to leave.

You asked Pieck to meet you out by the car while you searched for the bathroom. You needed a moment to collect yourself.

The sweat on the back of your neck went cold as you stepped into the restroom. You fanned the bottom of your sweatshirt as you made your way to the sink and let the icy water run over your hands. You didn’t dry them but patted the backs against your cheeks. It quelled some of the fluster, but you still felt queasy with a disgusting mix of a bad hangover and the claustrophobia that always came with these meetings. You gave yourself a pep talk in the mirror before the panic could set in.

This is what you wanted to do with your life, isn’t it? Then this is the price you have to pay. It’s all worth it. 

You repeated the last line a few more times before emerging from the sanctity that was the women’s bathroom.

Without Pieck, it took a bit longer for you to find the elevator. After a few loops around the floor, you finally found it, along with another waiting on its arrival.

Eren.

Call it what you wanted—ironic, poetic, a cruel twist of fate, or perhaps plain old misfortune—but here you were again, side-by-side, waiting on yet another elevator.

You kept your eyes forward, watching the number above the elevator tick higher as it approached the twelfth floor. From the corner of your eye, you saw Eren turn to you.

“Hey—”

“Don’t talk to me,” you snapped. You wanted him to stay quiet like he had during the meeting.

Eren snorted. “Right, and I’m the asshole.”

“Yeah, you are.” You breezed by him when the elevator doors opened. He joined you, hitting the button for the ground floor, then the one that made the doors close faster.

You caught him glancing at you again. You wished he wouldn’t. He took it as another invitation to try and talk again. 

“Look, I’m sorry if I called you boring or whatever. But for the record, you’re the one that called my band shitty.”

You didn’t remember that last part, but it didn’t stop you from saying, “No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.”

“If I did, then I didn’t mean it.” You folded your arms over your chest. “I can’t even name one of your songs.”

“Oh, well, that’s perfect then. Apology accepted,” Eren sneered. He rolled his eyes again like he did with Levi. It was probably something you’d have to learn to endure for now.

“That wasn’t an apology.” When the elevator door opened, you walked out first, waiting for him, but only because you had more to say. “Shouldn’t you be more upset about this? Doesn’t having me around cramp your style?” 

His nose scrunched. “Who says that?”

You walked through the lobby together but far enough apart that it looked awkward. Not to mention, it probably wasn’t smart to talk this loudly about your fake relationship. Even more when Eren said, “And I don’t really care. You got me laid last night, so I can’t complain.”

“Huh?”

Then you remembered the hickey.

Eren stopped once you were on the sidewalk out front. You each had your respective cars waiting on you, and they would have to wait until this conversation was over. Without the table between you, the way he stared down at you made your pulse quicken.

“Whoever took that picture must have sent it to a lot of people. Like, a lot. Within the hour, my ex hit me up.” He shrugged to spare you the gritty details. “You know how it goes. Figured this would make her jealous.”

He said it far too casually for your liking. You were seeing red. “You can’t fake cheat on me!”

He almost did a double take, looking at you as if you had sprouted a third eye or something just as insane. “I didn’t fake cheat on you. We weren’t even in a fake relationship yet!”

You took a daring pace toward him. He didn’t appear threatened by it, not that you didn’t expect him to. “Those pricks upstairs might want to protect my reputation for their own fucked up reasons, but I will not let you ruin me. I would never stay with a cheater, fake or not.”

Pieck called you to the car but you ignored it. Your thoughts were racing, echoing in your head and bouncing off your skull so fast that you couldn’t keep up. It only pissed you off more when Eren offered you nothing more than a slightly raised brow.

“I promise you, if you get caught with her, this will not end well for you,” you threatened.

He laughed, like an asshole. “Yeah, I’m real scared.”

It ended the same way as last night—with you huffing, marching off, and feeling less than victorious. Pieck was still holding the car door open for you as she mouthed, ‘Yikes.’ 

She stopped you short of crawling inside, whispering, “Listen, if I knew it was going to be like that, I wouldn’t have agreed to this meeting. You know that, right?”

You gave her a look, long and hard, then sidestepped her to get inside the car. She followed in after you, sitting beside you this time.

She buckled herself in and repeated, “Right?”

Pieck wasn’t only your manager; she had also been your best friend for as long as you could remember. Back when you’d sit on the floor, backs pressed up against her family’s tweedy couch, with cotton balls shoved between your toes as you painted your nails. You’d throw snacks into each other’s mouths and see who could catch the most in a row. You always won.

She was only a year older than you, but there were times when it felt more like a decade. She was always the more mature half of the friendship. Maybe that was why she wasn’t great at catching popcorn in her mouth. You knew she’d call herself sisterly, but you thought of her as more of the motherly type. Overbearingly so, at times.

Your dad only permitted her to work as your manager because she was like family to you. It was the same reason that it only took a few days of begging until he agreed to the arrangement a few years ago. If you knew it would have wound up like this, perhaps you wouldn’t have been so persistent.

That wasn’t to say you didn’t like having her around. It was just that you thought she’d let you get away with more, considering you were best friends. That turned out to be only wishful thinking.

You eventually conceded with a hollow sigh. “I know.”

The car hit a pothole. You felt sick again, but you couldn’t blame the hangover this time.

“I assumed you at least liked the guy. You know, based on the photo,” she said.

You could tell she was trying to lighten the mood, but you only grunted a response.

She patted your head and let you rest it on her shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll talk to your dad, okay?”

♡ taglist: @daisynik7 @wtfiswrongwithme1 @bejewelledd @lifesuckssomuchtbh @str4wberrylover @pompompurjin @vanessani @bingbongbingbongsblog @intimacywithceline @6sakusa @softjaegerhours @akvrae @josukesss @my-wide-open-eyes @sundazedm1 @bomjug @rinshoe @vlsquuu please let me know if i missed you or you'd like to be added/removed!

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren smut #new series new series! let me know what you think <3

[cowtiekentos]

EREN JAEGER AND FALCO GRICE ATTACK ON TITAN S4 | EP 3

#attack on titan #aotedit #shingeki no kyojin #snkedit #eren jaeger #falco grice #fyanimegifs #shounenedit #anisource #userriel #usernikiforova #usersunflower #underbetelgeuse #usergojoana #useraki #usermica #usertorichi #this scene still gets me #like i THOUGHT it was eren and then i didn't and then I KNEW #i need to finish this series hsjd #i'm on ep8 or ep10 #anime #* #malina.gif

[aengelren]

Final episode ends where the first episode starts

Armin is telling the story to the world

#entire series is Armin narratating what he’s going to tell the world for them to learn and want to maintain peace #This is why i tell y’all don’t mess with Isayama he knew what he was doing from the beginning #Isayama you rocked my world again #i mean i knew thus but just ahhhh #Aot end #the end #attack on titan #eren jaeger #shingeki no kyojin #eren #aot #eren yeager #anime #mikasa ackerman #Armin Arlert

[shawtuzi]

thinking about incubus!eren walk with me real quick besties

“i’m scared mika what if we actually summoned something,” you huffed squeezing your my melody plush to your chest. mikasa and sasha began laughing over the phone making your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, “s’not funny guys you know that stuff scares me—can’t believe i let you guys talk me into doing it.” in a poor attempt to help you get laid mikasa and sasha thought it would be funny to convince you to summon an incubus, and because peer pressure is a treacherous bitch you begrudgingly gave in. although they wholeheartedly believed the summons was bullshit and tried to convince you a ‘sex demon’ would never appear in your dreams you couldn’t help but fear they were wrong.

“y/n trust me nothings gonna happen, i doubt we even gave you the right instructions to actually summon one so don’t worry okay? talk later bye!” before you could get another word up the line went dead leaving you alone with your paranoid thoughts. you let out a deep sigh mumbling to yourself, “it’s gonna be okay y/n it’s not real it’s not real it’s not real.” in an attempt to calm yourself you turned on your favorite show and it actually did work! soon you were peacefully drifting off to sleep—little did you know you had an audience watching you.

“finally she’s asleep,” a gruff voice spoke from the darkest corner of your room. eren stood to his full height before slowly making his way to your bed. although the room was pitch black aside from the soft glow from your tv eren could see your sleeping form perfectly. your heart beat had slowed drastically and little snores could be heard from your plump, parted lips. eren brought his hand to your face, trailing his knuckle ever so gently down your cheek. ‘so soft,” he thought to himself, bringing his thumb to run across your plump lips. eren could hear the tiniest whimper escape your mouth and that’s when he knew he had you right where he wanted you.

in your dumb little head you thought you were simply having a mind blowing wet dream about a man whose beauty you couldn’t even comprehend—little did you know eren was controlling the entire thing. every orgasm, every position you were put in, every degrading comment the nameless man said to you incubus!eren was controlling it all. in an instant eren has flipped your comforter up, exposing you and your cute little pajama set. “how cute…” the demon whispered cupping your pussy over your cotton shorts, “and she’s already soaked, even cuter!”

eren couldn’t contain his excitement as you began to grind your pussy against his palm. eren climbed above your sleeping body, careful not to wake you as he gauged your every reaction. your pussy had gotten so wet from your dream your slick had begun to seep through your panties and eventually your shorts, coating the demons palm in your sweet essence.

suddenly your eyes snapped open and you were met with piercing emerald ones staring right back at you. you opened your mouth to scream but he covered your mouth, slightly digging his nails into your skin. eren reached over and turned on your bedside light, giving you a slightly better view of his face. the sight of him made your eyes widen—you couldn’t tell if it was in admiration or horror (maybe both). “i look a little familiar huh?” he grinned showing off his razor sharp canines, “now if i remove my hand will you promise to be a good girl and not scream?” you slowly shook your head making eren’s smile widen. eren removed his hand from your mouth but stayed hovered over you, his wings blocking everything in the room but his scarily handsome face.

“don’t act so surprised to see me you are the one that summoned me after all im just doing my job,” he brought his much larger hand to your face, squeezing your cheeks together. you were absolutely speechless. there’s no way you conjured a damn sex demon there was absolutely no way—yet here he was in all his glory looking like he was ready to devour you whole. “y-you’re not going to h-hurt me are you?” your shaky voice made eren’s semi-hard dick throb. eren buried his head in your neck inhaling the sweet smell shea butter and coconut scented body wash, “m’not hear to hurt you sweet thing,” his long tongue licked from the junction of your neck to the shell of your ear, “i’m just hear to make you feel good—make us feel good together.”

“you’re so cute and soft,” he smiled taking your trembling hand in his, pressing a soft kiss the skin of your palm. the incubus then began to litter your neck with kisses, slowly making his way to your cleavage. “so…after we have sex does that mean you’ll go away” you asked, letting out a little gasp when he yanked up your sleep shirt. “so pretty…” he mumbled to himself before taking one of your nipples into his watering mouth. “but to answer your question yes i will go away—unless i release inside you then we’d be bonded,” his words were muffled as he continued to suckle on your nipple, tweaking the other with his hand. “b-bonded? ah!” you let out a squeak as eren bit down harshly on your nipple before swirling his tongue once again around the bud.

eren let out a lewd ‘mhmm’ as his kisses began to trail lower and lower until he was between your parted thighs. his sharp nail ran down your covered folds making you jump the tiniest bit, “if we’re bonded that means i am yours but most importantly you’ll be mine. i’ll get to take care of this neglected little pussy as much as you need, wouldn’t that be just divine sweet girl?” before you could get a word out his disturbingly long tongue began to lap at your pussy over your sleep shorts, soaking the fabric even more. your hips bucked up into his face making the demon giggle.

“so what do you say? i promise i’ll take such good care of you until the end of time. i swear it,” you looked into his eyes pondering for a moment before nodding your head. you felt pathetic for just a second until it was replaced with overwhelming pleasure when eren pulled your shorts and panties to the side, licking a slow fat stripe up your soaked pussy. you were risking your safety and sanity by making a deal with such an evil spirit but with the way eren skillfully made out with your pussy you just couldn’t find it in you to care.

eren was elated to have such a cute little plaything by his side now, and it looked like you were just as happy to have him too. he may have left out the part where he’s going to consume your every thought and be the star of every single dream you have but you don’t mind right?

#thinking of making this into a lil series idk #eren smut #eren yeager smut #eren jaeger smut #aot smut #attack on titan smut

[punkcheeks34]

feelings/ pt 1

eren x reader, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, drunk confession

you knew eren before you knew him. his mom and your mom were the best of friends in highschool, and a friendship was fated from the start. from family barbecues to birthdays, you two were always together. “inseparable” is what carla describes us. eren always scoffed when mom would say we would get married one day. my eyes would brighten at the mention.

eren was always the outsider growing up, the rebel. he grew his hair to his shoulders, didn’t get along with the popular crowd, got an illegal tattoo at 16, and religiously wore band tees. as we got older, i noticed him more and more. we were around each other so often, so close. when his voice got deeper and his arms became toned, i couldn’t help fighting my feelings. to him, we were friends. to me, he was more. i knew he never saw me the way because he slept around. he smoked and wasn’t afraid to break a few laws. hes the personification of the boys your mom will tell you to watch out for, because their mystery is so alluring that you won’t be able to resist, and that in the end, they will break your heart. mom would never see eren in another light though. nothing other than her best friends adorable, sweet child.

as i’m about to fall asleep, my phone buzzes on my bedside table and reach for it quickly.

R u awake

it’s 2 in the morning and i know what he’s been doing.

what’s up eren?

i wait anxiously.

Im sorru it’s so latew but can u pick me up from Jean’s please?

i immediately get up and throw on a zip up hoodie. i grab my keys and hurry out of my window. god, the things i do for this boy.

the first time i felt something for him was 6th grade. for a while, he had been trying to slum it with the popular boys, reiner, jean, flock, and zeke, in our class. it didn’t work. he was a puzzle piece that didn’t fit, but he tried and i watched. i watched him try biking every day after-school with them when i knew he preferred to go skating with me. i watched him try to salvage his failing math grade from constantly attempting to meet the demands of these boys, their constant hangouts that eren didn’t really look forward too, telling me how unfunny he thought their jokes were. i watched eren and the popular boys talk to the popular girls. seeing eren laughing with historian reiss made me fume. who was she to even speak to him? she doesn’t know him like that? she doesn’t know him like i do!

it was all jealousy. historia was beautiful, popular, and i knew eren thought so too, because i would see them drinking slurpees at the quick zip every friday after school. i fumed even more. there were rumors that they had even kissed. stupid me thought and dreamed that maybe he secretly wanted me, and maybe he secretly wanted me to be his first kiss. hearing the rumor crushed me. i was heartbroken, but i could never be mad at eren over some dream that would never come true.

but suddenly eren withdrew. historia and him never hung out on fridays and the popular boys treated eren like he were a plague. jean still spoke to him though, even with their bitter rivalry that he would never tell me stemmed from what. me and him were already attached at the hip by that point, but he stuck by me like glue from then on. i didn’t question it. i didn’t care too because that he wanted to spend time with me, me.

we spent the rest of our middle school and high-school years together. always turning around to make sure the other one was behind. always picking the same classes to take so that we’d be together. always going back to my place after school, sitting on my bed to talk about everything the world has to offer over and over again. i would always help him with math, and he would always defend me against the popular guys that pursued me, warning me that he knew their motives. that they didn’t want me for the right reasons. i understood and i kept away. but they didn’t.

junior year, after our AP physics class, the ringleader of the group, zeke, cornered me in the stairwell and confessed how long he had been wanting me. how much he needed me, and that i should come over sometime with his friends. and from that, i already had an idea that this was what eren was talking about. i tried to get out, but he wouldn’t let me. eren pushed him to the wall and fought him. jean and armin had to pull eren off of him. eren got suspended because he broke zekes nose, and he had to get surgery to fix the damage.

during erens suspension, we spoke.

“i don’t like how the guys are,” he starts, fixing the pink pillow under his head,” they get me so fucking mad.” he’s been staying at my house ever since he got suspended. his parents are mad.

i look up from the book i was reading. “it was only zeke who really pushed it? why are you so pissed about the whole group?”

erens eyebrows furrow. “y/n, they’re guys. i’m a guy, and you’re not. i know how guys like them are!” he suddenly looks uncomfortable. “it’s disgusting.” he mutters, “and i don’t like that zeke wanted you to come over.”

“but still?” i argue, “just because you have something against zeke doesn’t mean you should hate the whole group with a passion. i know they’re obnoxious, but don’t let them get to you.”

“of course i have something against zeke and his friends! he forced you into the corner and told you how bad he wanted to fuck you!”

i cringe at the honesty. “i meant that you’ve hated him since middle school. like.. obsessively hate.”

eren lets out a laugh at the idiocracy. “first of all, i am not obsessed with zeke fritz.” he takes a deep breath like he’s preparing for the finale of a grand speech. “and second of all, he’s always pissed me off.”

“even when you hung out with him and his friends?” i tease.

eren grows silent. “i don’t want to talk about it.” and i dropped the conversation.

i pull into the round-about where jean lives. i’ve had to pick eren up a few times from here, but lately, the only reason he’s been here is to get drunk at jeans college parties. jeans parents are loaded, lawyers who travel for work, which leaves him at home with way too much freedom.

the music is vibrating the ground from here. i wonder when the police are gonna show up to shut down this party for the noise disturbance. i need to find eren, soon. i open the front door and see people leaning on the walls with drinks, talking, joking, some making out. i look away and try to find eren. i don’t see him anywhere.

after scanning the entire first floor, eren jeager is no where to be found. i head towards the stairs and start walking up, hoping to find him upstairs.

where are you? i text.

as i’m walking down the hallway, i hear a familiar voice.

“In here!”

i walk toward the sound of his voice, the last door of the hallway that has the name “jean” written in bright blue letters. i open the door and see the unexpected.

well, not fully unexpected. i see eren, his almost- shoulder length hair pulled back into a bun and his body adorning grey sweatpants and a navy hoodie, who i was expecting to see, laying down on jeans bed, smiling at the ceiling like a weirdo. yep, he’s one drink away from blacking out. but what i didn’t expect to see was historia reiss, sitting at the end of the bed, picking at her split ends and chewing her gum with her mouth open. my stomach turns at the scene, but i force down my feelings.

“hey!” i say. historia turns to me with a look of disappointment on her face and eren lifts his head and laughs drunkly when he sees me.

“uh,” i suddenly become uncomfortable under historias arrogant stare, “sorry i didn’t knock, i’m here to get eren.”

she looks at eren and then looks at me, saying, “okay..” condescendingly and walks into jeans bathroom. she wasn’t wearing any shoes. erens not wearing any either.

“heyyyy,” eren slurs as i walk over to him. “i didn’t know you partied!” he jokes before bursting out laughing

“you texted me. how much did you have to drink?”

he looks dumbfounded at the simple question “what?”

“i said, how much did you have to drink?” i repeat. i can barely hear my own voice over the booming music.

“uhhhhh-,” he replies after a few seconds, “i don’t know.”

“okay, cmon. get up eren. we’re going.”

“yes ma’am.” he says, giving a military salute. surprisingly, he can stand just fine despite how drunk he seems. i make sure he has everything

and we leave jeans house. we walk over to my parked car and i put eren in the backseat incase he pukes all over my dashboard again. i don’t want a repeat of the last time i picked him up.

“there’s a plastic bag in the right pocket if you need to puke, eren, just letting you know.” i mention as i pull out of the round-a- bout.

“okay, mom, thanks” he scoffs.

i pull unto the main road, stopping at the red light.

“so,” i start,” historia, huh?” my voice filling the silence.

“huh, what’re you talking about?” he says in a genuine, drunk confusion. “did something happen”

“i just didn’t know you guys were really friends.” i reply. and i murmur, “obviously more than that though.”

you’re eyes are fixed on the road, but erens eyes are dead fixed on you after that snide comment that he definitely heard.

“yeah,” he rolls his eyes, sarcasm and the presence of alcohol in his tone, “we had so much fun, y/n. you don’t even know.”

i look at him through the dash cam window and he’s staring at me with a smirk and an indepipherable look in his eyes, testing me. i grip the stealing wheel and drive faster. i know he’s joking, but i can’t tell if he’s hinting at the truth or just telling a lie to get a reaction out of me.i just want this conversation i started to be over with.

“uh, so, how’s jean?” i change the conversation.

“what, you like him or something?”

“what! no!” i deny. “i never said that, eren?”

eren leans back into the seat, head resting on the head rest as he looks up. “whatever.”

unlike eren, there’s no alcohol in my system, but i’m feeling bold today. “what do you mean whatever, eren? you think i like jean?”

“uhhh, haven’t you always?” he states like it’s the obvious. “i saw the way he looked at you in art class.”

“just because he looked at me once or twice doesn’t mean i want him to fuck me or something.”

erens eyes narrow and his brows furrow, lifting his head in interest. “what the fuck did you just say?”

“what the fuck are you saying?” i fight back. “i ask you how jean is and you act like i’m begging on my knees for him. god damn.”

now he’s fully attentive, elbows on his knees and leaning in as if he’ll learn more by his upright posture. “i don’t like the idea of you liking jean,” he states, the slurring of his words still audible , “aaand i don’t like the idea of jean liking you.”

my heart races. “why?”

“maybe it’s the same reason you don’t like seeing me with historia.” and suddenly, he sounds sober.

my heart stops. he heard the comment i made under my breath.

“eren, i don’t care who you see.” the lie is evident in my tone, but eren is so drunk that i don’t bother to hide it. “you can hook up with historia for all i care. have fun with mouth herpes.”

“see, this is what i don’t like,” he slurs out, “did it really not bother you when you saw me and historia in the same bed?”

“why would it bother me? we’re just friends.”

“is that what you want to believe?”

“is that what i shouldn’t believe, eren?”

eren sighs and leans back again. “you remember when i hung out with zeke, flock, reiner, and jean like way back?”

“yeah.”

“that entire time. all they talked about is who would get you first. who would be the first to- fuck. fuck!” he slurs “i never wanted to tell you that!”

my mouth is to the floor. “seriously? that is so- why woudlnt you tell me?”

he looks out the window, “because i was scared that if i told you they liked you, you’d like the attention and shit, and then you wouldn’t be mine.”

my heart is beating out of my chest. “my god, you’re so drunk. eren, you’re speaking nonesense.”

“i’ve been in love with you since the 6th grade.”

“eren, stop.” tears brim my eyes. in the morning, when he’s sober and remembers this, he’ll regret his drunken lies and i’ll have to pretend like this drunk, fake confession didn’t mean the world to me.

“i left the digusting group for that. i hated that me and those annoying dogs had something in common, wanting you.”

“you never wanted me, eren!” i snap, “ you would fake a gag every time our moms shipped us together! and what about historia, huh? don’t act like you two haven’t been sleeping together since highschool. oh, and what about mikasa? you and her-”

“i don’t care about them! all i want is you y/n! i thought you already knew how bad i had it for you” he cuts me off.

“fucking lies.”

he grows quiet for a while.

“i pretended they were you everytime,” he admits,” they didn’t turn me on. i had to pretend they were you, ” he leans in, “and honestly? i still do.”

his words send butteflies rushing to your stomach, but you know better. “eren. you’re drunk”

he pulls his hair out of his messy bun and puts his hood on. “drunken. words. are sober. thoughts!” he enunciates before laughing.

we pull into his house driveway.

“i’m sorry for teasing you about me and historia tonight.” he apologies, and i smell beer from his breath. “im really sorry.”

“i thought drunk words were sober thoughts?” you retaliate with hurt in your tone. you didn’t want to argue, but you didn’t want to not stand your ground.

“i just- wanted to make you jealous. im sorry, y/n” he hugs me, arms wrapping around me tightly as he fits his head into the crook of my neck and sniffs. “god, you smell so good..”

“eren.” you warn.

“your perfume. it drives me insane.” he whines and starts peppering kisses down your neck.

you blush and your heart stops before you push him off of you. he stumbles back, having to regain his balance due to the alchohal in his system. he’s drunk, he’s drunk and he’s so fucking drunk.

the look in his eyes are nothing short of hurt. “y/n..”

“we’ll talk in the morning” you breath out. “go sleep this off.”

“i’ve already tried,” he replies as he walks up the stairs to his room, “why do you think i get so drunk all the damn time. seeing historias face sober every weekend makes me remember that she isn’t you.” he gets to the top step and disappears behind the wall.

#eren jaeger #eren x reader #eren aot #frat #aot #eren yeager #mutual pining #confession #drunk eren #drunk confession #series #pt 1 #eren x you #first post

[theragethatisdesire]

much ado about nothing chapter 5 - plug!eren x reader - 18+!!!

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. minors and ageless blogs, please do not read below the cut.

i have successfully kicked my writer's block to the curb and am ready to pick back up on plug!eren!!!! woohoo!! this is the part of the story where it gets really plot heavy and there's a lot of moving parts, so it's been a fun exercise to write and brainstorm. if anything is confusing or u have any theories/questions PLEASE hit my inbox i'm so down bad for plug eren i could talk about him for days.

get ready to meet a new character who is......not the best lol. this is also the first chapter written in eren's pov :o things are about to get interesting!

still haven't caught up? series masterlist HERE <3

specific cws: mentions of smut but nothing outright, alcohol use, swearing, u know the drill

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“If music be the food of love, play on. / Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, / The appetite may sicken and so die.” - Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare (Act I, Scene 1)

Eren is, admittedly, a romantic person, especially given his occupation. Not romantic in the cheesy, buying-flowers and kissing-in-the-rain sense, but he appreciates the little details of life. He loves autumn, when the leaves catch on fire with the changing of the season. He loves the little crook of a woman’s neck, that slope where it goes from tendon to shoulder to collarbone. He can appreciate a good bourbon; after years of raiding his dad’s stash, he developed a palate for it early on. Eren’s romantic nature leads him to believe in signs. When the universe tells him something, he listens.

The text still sat in his inbox unopened, marinating in its own bizarre, heartbreaking nature.

> heyyyy lover boy! i’m back from austria! missed u, let’s catch up ;)

Eren knows that Breeze knows him, knows him well enough to understand that his three-week radio silence isn’t a no, it’s a maybe. He hates himself for not immediately texting her back and telling her to fuck off, but after his conversation with you, he thinks it might be the universe telling him it’s safe this time, that he won’t end up a shell of himself. Maybe.

You had been firm in your assertion that you and Eren were better off as friends, and as much as he wanted to fight it, Eren respects women. As much as he can when he’s prone to wrenching their jaws open and spitting in their mouths while he’s balls deep inside them, at least. He’s disappointed, but he respects it, and if he’s honest, he likes you.

He likes your sharp humor, likes the way you tend to keep your hair up off of your neck, likes the way your eyes light up when someone gives you an excuse to talk about your studies. He hasn’t been “just friends” with a woman in a long time, but it’s refreshing, an excuse to go grab a coffee and shoot the shit like a normal person instead of lurking in the corner of a frat party handing out pills like a perverse ice cream truck.

The last three weeks of “friends” have been the best Eren’s had in a long time. You’re easy, that’s what he likes about you. He can drop the cold mask he wears so often, giggle over a stupid meme, listen intently as you prattle on about some long-dead 18th-century author that was “so ahead of her time!”, smirk when you chastise him for doodling little hearts and flowers all over your coursework.

Sure, he still steals a glance down your shirt when he can, and he’d never admit it, but he thinks about you late at night. He thinks about you when he’s in the shower, when he’s got himself in his hand, panting and swearing under his breath, but he manages to feel enough guilt over it to still consider you a friend. You’re caring and considerate and easy, wholesome fun, unlike someone that’s made a sudden reappearance into his life.

After that first night, just when he was starting to entertain the thought of promoting you from one night stand to official fuck buddy, the closest thing to commitment Eren allows himself to maintain these days, Breeze swept back into his life, and you hit the brakes on him. While it may not have been the sign he wanted to receive, Eren’s a romantic, and he listens to the universe, especially when it goes so far out of its way to tell him something.

He’s decided to let Breeze stew for a little while longer. Campus will be clearing out for Thanksgiving break soon, along with most of his business, and he’s going to wait until his hands are empty of work and you before answering her. Plus, she had flitted off to Europe after college like their entire relationship had been nothing more than a passing phase; Eren’s owed at least a little bit of pettiness, right?

> paradise ath 1130! see uthere ;)

Eren snorts at your text. Being as uptight as you are about grammar (you’re constantly hounding him about his texting style, and he’s been making them even more incorrect just to hear you berate him), he knows you’re not just texting quickly, you’re drunk.

“Yo, ‘min!” Eren calls into the kitchen, an excited flutter already rising in his chest beneath his hoodie.

“Yeah?” Armin’s head pops around the doorframe, a dab of ketchup on the corner of his mouth.

“Wanna go to Paradise later?”

“The club?” Armin’s nose wrinkles. Connie’s head appears right beside Armin, a wide grin splitting his face.

“Oh, hell yeah,” Connie answers for both of them before Armin has the chance to shoot the idea down, “who’s going?”

“Like you don’t know the answer to that,” Armin scoffs, ducking back into the kitchen with a roll of his eyes.

“I never took her for a ‘club’ type of girl,” Connie adds air-quotes to emphasize his confusion.

Eren mulls that over for a moment; he doesn’t really take you for a club type of girl either, but from the sound of it, Historia and Sasha have already done the job of getting you good and drunk and talking you into a night on the town. Eren’s always wanted to see what you’re like when you’re well and truly fucked up; every time you indulge him with a story from college, he ends up laughing so hard he’s clutching his stomach and gasping for breath.

Supposedly, when you go all out, you drop the mom-friend act and become a little less tame; is this Eren’s opportunity to get an eyeful for himself? He’s not waiting around to find out.

Eren shrugs. “Come help me make these runs and we’ll go. Armin, you’re driving.”

The drop-offs are uneventful, and as soon as Eren steps foot inside the club, his nose scrunches with distaste. Ironically, he’s never been into the partying scene, much preferring a quiet beer at Scout’s or a blunt on the couch to a club. The music’s horribly loud, bass thudding through the fabric of his hoodie and beating against his chest, and as he looks for you, he can barely see through the mass of bodies and the fog machines. You’re here? It’s difficult for Eren to imagine you, in your favorite flannel and those cute little Vans he likes, tucked against the bar throwing back your signature craft beer. As Connie urges him and Armin in the direction of the bar, calling for green tea shots, Eren nearly regrets his decision, until fingernails dig into his shoulder, spinning him on his heels.

“Hey, you.”

Eren blinks stupidly as you grin up at him through thick, black lashes. He’s never even dared to imagine you like you are now, piercing eyes gazing up at him through a heavy dusting of makeup and the shortest, tightest dress Eren’s ever seen hugging every inch of your curves. You look sinful in a way he’s never seen you before, not even when he was holding you tight to him and wrenching out orgasm after orgasm from your body. He gulps.

“Holy shit– hey,” he lets you pull him in for an overexcited hug, bites down on the inside of his cheek to distract himself from the bulge already swelling in his pants.

“I missed you!” You pinch his cheeks, much to Eren’s dismay.

“Just saw you yesterday– quit pinchin’ me. What are you even doing here? Didn’t think this was your scene.” Eren has to actively keep his eyes trained on your face; there’s a little bead of sweat traveling down the expanse of skin between your breasts that’s making his mouth water. Friends, he scoffs in his mind. Are you trying to kill him?

“Well, it’s not, but Sasha says I need to be more fun, and Stor says I need to find a boyfriend.” You gesture around like it’s obvious. Eren cocks an eyebrow, ignoring the inappropriate envy that twists in his stomach at the mention of the word ‘boyfriend’.

Boyfriends never like the guy friends, it’s practically a law of nature. If you’re dating around, it’s only a matter of time before some square in a button-down steals you away from your coffee dates and movie nights with Eren, but he can’t get too caught up in that now, not when you’re looking up at him all dizzy and sexy and bursting at the seams.

“Don’t know if this is the place for that.”

“That’s what I said!” Oh, you’re drunk drunk, all of your movements overexaggerated and shaky. It makes him want to laugh seeing you like this; his little book nerd, trashed and mere inches away from having her ass out at a club. Well, either laugh or drag you into the bathroom to bend you over the sink. He can’t be sure.

“Hey mama!” Connie shouts over at you, handing you a shot. Eren has half a mind to snatch it out of his hand after catching the slurring in your voice, but he’s too late; you throw it back without so much as a shudder, grinning all wide and wet and pretty when you swallow.

“I didn’t think you’d actually show up,” you tell him, pulling him down by his collar so you can speak into his ear. Eren has to bite back a groan at the feel of your hot lips against his ear. Friends, he reminds himself urgently, pushing you back from him but keeping his hands firm on your hips, relishing in the way your flesh gives under his grip.

“You know the rules. You call, I come.”

“That’s what she said,” you snicker, pinching his cheek again.

“Cut that out!”

“Make me.” Oh fuck, Eren’s going to die. He’s going to die if you keep looking at him like that, bottom lip tucked between your teeth and fuck-me eyes on him.

“You’re not being very friendly,” he manages to choke out, trying his hardest to give you a suspicious look through the dizzying wave of images that flash through his brain. You with your mouth full of him. You spread out on his bed, back arched and fingers twisted in his hair. The little “o” your mouth made when you rode him for the first time. Eren wants to smack himself, jump in a cold shower, something. Get a grip, dude.

“Maybe not,” you shrug, eyes darting over to the bar. “Hurry up and grab a drink, I wanna dance.”

“Not much of a dancer,” Eren admits, taking the beer that Connie hands him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll do all the work.”

Eren isn’t sure if he likes or loves the sound of that, powerless against that stupid little dress you’ve got on as you drag him behind you to the mass of bodies he had so disdainfully eyed on his way in. He’s greeted by a loud round of shrieking, one more pinch to the cheek by Historia and a slap on the ass from Sasha. You make a show of teasing him for how pink his face gets, but luckily, your friends are instantly distracted by Armin and Connie’s arrival right behind him. You pull him back down, glossy lips pressed right against his ear.

“I really like this song.” You’re barely audible over the pounding music, but even if Eren hadn’t heard what you said, he’d get the gist from the way you grind against his thigh, slow and sensual. Maybe you are actually trying to kill him.

“Yeah?” He’s breathless, irreparably and embarrassingly caught in the little web you’ve woven.

“Yeah.” You’re moving harder against him now, throwing your arms around his neck and grinding your hips into his. Eren’s only thought is to let his hands fly back to your hips, let you use him like a stripper pole to show off.

He can feel eyes on him, not the eyes of friends, but of other men around him, wondering who the lucky asshole is that’s getting the royal treatment from a girl as hot as you. If he were to be truthful, it’s getting him off, how every eye is on you and, by proxy, him, holding you like a lifeline as you let the beat rock through your body.

So this, this is the party girl you claim to have living deep inside you. This seductive, electric creature moving tantalizing against his body, this is the source of the stories Historia tells him that make you blush? How you could ever be embarrassed of this is beyond him; you’re like a little devil, sent straight from hell just to torture him, and Eren’s mouth is watering.

Song after song goes by, and you don’t let up, don’t let him catch his breath for a moment, moving from facing him to pressing your ass into his crotch and then back again, arms above your head or wrapped around his neck. Eren wishes he was mentally sound enough at the moment to feel ashamed that you can absolutely feel how hard he is through his pants right now, but he’s drunk on you, letting you press into him so insistently he has to tug your dress down for you, letting you drive him so crazy that he’s grateful for the loud music now. He’d die if Connie or Armin could hear the way he’s grunting and groaning low under his breath, powerless underneath you.

Suddenly, as if you haven’t just been riling him up for the last half hour, you back away enough to face him, shaking your empty cup and him and mouthing something that Eren’s still too dizzy to make out.

“Huh?”

“Get me another drink!” you shout over the bass, laughing at him.

Eren nods stupidly, darting away from you before he can grab your jaw, pull your lips to his like he so desperately wants to. Finally out of the throng of bodies, he can feel his head clearing, some semblance of sanity crashing over him. What the fuck has gotten into him? It was just one night, and you’ve kept him at arm’s length ever since, only seeing each other under the guise of coffee, or a beer, or Eren insisting you need to continue your education in the wonders of horror films. You’re drunk, that’s the only explanation; drunk and teasing him like you aren’t going to wake up and throw him right back into the friendzone. He rests both elbows on the bar, shaking his head like he’ll be able to knock some sense into himself if he rattles his brain around a little.

Eren orders your vodka soda and a beer and a shot for himself, something to clear his head and keep his blood pressure manageable. Hopefully, at least.

When he turns around, drinks in hand, that plan flies out the door. There you are, center of the dance floor, hands above your head and hips moving like you’re intentionally trying to make him lose his fucking mind. He tilts his head in interest when a man approaches you, grazes his hands over your hips like he means to start grinding against you. Eren can feel his own hands tightening around the bottle and the plastic cup in his hand, but he holds himself back; he’s got no claim on you, and if you’re willing to entertain the man (who, if you ask Eren, is way below your standards), who is Eren to stop you?

You surprise him in the best way: when the man touches you lightly, you whip around, brows furrowed and a little glitter in your eyes so mean that even Eren nearly flinches. He can’t read your lips in the low light, but he snorts to himself anyway as the man puts his hands up and backs away from you, eyes wide. As if nothing had happened, you spin back on your heel, facing a cackling Sasha with a shrug.

Eren feels a wide, proud smile blooming on his face. As much as he feels an unwarranted protectiveness towards you, he likes watching you get your teeth out and stand up for yourself. Before he can make his way back over to tease you, a voice from his left makes his blood run cold.

“Rennie?!”

Two thin arms are tossed around his neck before Eren can even respond, the familiar scent of vanilla and coconut enveloping him.

“Breeze?” Eren chokes out, too shocked to keep his composure. She pulls away from him and grins, a little diamond glittering from her right canine tooth.

“You didn’t text me back, you tease,” she swats at his chest, snags the vodka soda he’d bought for you right out of his hand, taking a sip. Eren takes the opportunity to swallow hard around the lump in his throat, one last tentative glance towards you before he turns his gaze back to Breeze.

She’s cut her hair, something short and choppy that swings around her ears, and fuck, she’s still just as pretty as he remembers, little freckles on her button nose visible in the darkness of the club.

“Didn’t think you wanted to see me,” Eren shrugs, forcing his face to remain schooled into one of cold apathy. She had left him, like he was nothing to her. He hates her, he realizes, god, he hates her so much it burns in his veins. Breeze cocks her head, frowning.

“Why would you think that?”

“You fucking left me, Breeze, don’t be stupid,” Eren makes a move to steal the drink back from her, but she holds it close enough to her chest that he’d have to practically grope her to take it, and his fingers recoil at the realization.

“Are you double-fisting, or did you buy this for someone special?” She teases, brushing right over Eren’s bristly demeanor. When he doesn’t answer, she raises her eyebrows. “It’s for someone. Well, point her out! Is she cute?”

Breeze turns on her heel, standing on her tiptoes to glance through the crowd. Before he can stop himself, Eren’s grabbing her upper arm, spinning her back to face him with anger blazing in his eyes. When he meets her gaze, her baby blues are alight with mischief, and he knows that no matter which direction he moves, he’s losing whatever little game she has him trapped in. That was the thing about Breeze; Eren was always losing her games.

“Fuck, just…just stop it, Breeze. What are you even doing here?”

“I’m back in town, didn’t you see my text?” Breeze shrugs innocently, sipping your drink.

“Okay, well, welcome back,” Eren deadpans, leaving her question hanging in the air between them. He turns back to the bar to order another cocktail for you, having given up hope of getting the first one back from Breeze, but she’s relentless, has always been that way. She slides up to the bar beside him, smiling demurely up at him.

“I missed you, you know.”

“Wouldn’t have guessed,” Eren scoffs, rolling his eyes. Breeze flinches, but Eren knows her better than that. It’s all an act, it always is.

“I never realized how much I hurt you,” her fingers grazing over his cheek nearly burn with how cold they are in contrast to the heavy, thick air around them, “‘m sorry, Rennie.”

“It’s fine.” Eren hates the way he twitches and nearly leans into her touch when she swipes her fingers over him. How many times has he thought about this, seeing her again after all these years? Everything he’s planned out, everything he’s ever wanted to say is lodged in his throat, a jumble of letters and words so squished out of order that they no longer hold meaning. He doesn’t love her, not anymore, but his body reacts before his brain can stop it, a conditioned response.

“Can we talk about it soon? Maybe over coffee?” Blue eyes blinking up at him earnestly.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Breeze,” Eren rolls his eyes, swallowing thick around the knot in his throat.

“There is,” she insists, “I brought this amazing espresso blend back with me from Florence, and–”

“If I say yes, will you leave me alone for tonight?” Eren can feel the exasperation in his tone, can feel the weight of his mistake weighing on his shoulders. It’s fine, he tells himself, he’ll make up some excuse and get out of it. A long conversation with Breeze about their breakup is the last thing he needs.

“Maybe,” Breeze tucks her lip in between her teeth, a little smile playing at the corner of her mouth, “unless you change your mind.”

“We can talk or whatever another time, but I’m going back to my friends, okay? Go find yours.”

“You’re my friend,” Breeze purrs, one hand stroking over Eren’s bicep, “and I haven’ seen you int–”

“Don’t push it,” Eren nearly growls, scowling down at her. He knows half of the hatred buzzing through his veins is reserved for himself, but he’ll unpack that at home with a blunt, not in the middle of the club with you waiting for him on the dance floor and Breeze staring up at him hungrily.

“Always wound so tight,” Breeze hums, reaching a hand up to squish his cheeks, “but fine. I’ll see you soon.”

She miraculously leaves him there with nothing but a wink, taking your vodka soda with her; Eren’s shoulders slump in relief. Knowing Breeze, it was a wonder she hadn’t tackled him right there. When he turns around for the second time, two drinks in hand, you’re already staring at him. Shit.

You don’t look mad– and why would you be? You’re friends, Eren reminds himself. There’s no reason for you to know who Breeze is; he’s never told you about her, and he never planned on doing so. Eren knows Historia, though, well enough to believe that she told you everything from the godforsaken moment he walked into your apartment that day. 

He doesn’t like that look you’ve got, though; again, not mad, but he can see the gears turning behind your eyes. Eren has to practically force himself to walk towards you. Your head’s cocked in confusion, something watery and hesitant glimmering in your eyes through the low lighting. If he didn’t know better, he’d say you almost look hurt, but that wouldn’t be fair, would it? You didn’t want him, you had made that abundantly clear.

“Sorry it took me a while. Long line.” Eren hands you your drink, nearly wincing at how naturally the clearly false statement rolls off his tongue.

“Mhm,” you nod, downing nearly half of your drink in one long slurp. Your movements aren’t fluid and dynamic anymore; you’re stiff as a board, bouncing back and forth on the balls of your feet along to the beat of the song. “I…I actually have to pee, do you mind holding this?”

“Now?” Eren blinks, confused. “I just got your drink.”

You offer him a tight smile. “I wanted to wait ‘til you were back, so you could watch my drink. And so you didn’t think I ran off on you or something.”

“Oh, yeah, go ahead.”

He watches you slink away into the crowd, watches the dozens of eyes follow you, surely wondering what happened to the little firecracker in the middle of the dance floor. Eren knows you get like this sometimes, suddenly pensive and nostalgic, knows that per your own admission, you like to handle it yourself. He hadn’t done this to you, had he?

A firm pinch to his cheek distracts him, pulls him down a foot below his normal standing height. Could everyone just stop pinching his fucking face? “Shit, ow!”

“Was that Breeze?” Historia yells directly into his ear. Eren, six-foot-something of hell on wheels, blushes furiously.

“Dude, was that fucking Breeze, or am I too fucked up?” Connie echoes Historia’s sentiment from over her shoulder, eyes comically wide. Armin’s peering around him, eyes flitting back and forth between Eren, Connie, and Historia as he tries to understand what’s happened.

“Who cares?” Eren snaps at Connie. Historia’s grip on his face loosens, releases entirely. If Eren didn’t like the look that you had given him, he hates the look Historia’s shooting at him right now. All daggers and disappointment. She turns on her heel without another word, making a beeline for the bathroom and dragging Sasha along behind her. Eren doesn’t miss Armin’s eyes either; stripping him to the bone without saying a word.

“Quit looking at me like that,” Eren scoffs, waves a hand in Armin’s direction.

“When did Breeze get back into town?” Armin shouts over the music.

“A few weeks ago,” Eren admits, avoiding Armin’s eyes and looking for a spot at the bar where he can escape the heavy gazes of his friends, run away to drown this conversation in a shot of whiskey.

“Did you–”

“I don’t know, man, you know how she is. She just showed up.” Eren knows he’s being unnecessarily gruff, but in his defense, the last hour or so has been a whirlwind of memory and emotion and lust that he doesn’t have the capacity to deal with.

Armin nods simply, takes a sip of his beer. Eren’s known Armin since they were kids, and he knows Armin can read him like a book. If he had a little less pride, Eren would pull Armin to the side and ask if he can make any sense of what’s going through Eren’s head right now because Eren sure as hell can’t. There’s you, with your skimpy dress and your flirty eyes, grinding on him like you’re going to take him home and fuck him stupid again, like you hadn’t demanded an honest-to-god friendship that Eren happens to very much enjoy. On the other hand, there’s Breeze, flighty and just as much of a ghost as she is a real person, popping back into his life and batting her blue eyes at him like she’d never left.

You’re his friend, and Breeze is his terrible ex. There shouldn’t be a choice here– there isn’t, it’s just the way things are, but Eren feels stuck at a crossroads for some reason.

He finally gets fed up with the music and the bumping of bodies around him and storms off to the bar again, biting back the urge to snap at Connie and Armin who he knows are hot on his heels. Eren’s just looked up from the shot of whiskey burning its way down his throat, acknowledging the dizziness that’s come with his drinks for the night, when he spots you.

You don’t look angry, that’s a small mercy you unwittingly grant him, but you’re cowering. Historia, even being shorter than you, is practically pinning you to the wall outside of the bathroom, shouting at you with her finger in your face. Sasha doesn’t look all too pleased either, arms crossed and a deep scowl written into her features. Eren gets a glimpse of your phone in Historia’s other hand that she’s waving around erratically, and wonders what the hell happens in women’s bathrooms. He’s not exactly sure what prompts it, but he checks his own phone. Nothing.

“Are they fighting?” Connie asks, nose scrunched as he peeks around Eren’s arm.

“Looks like it,” Armin nods, wincing as you try to make a grab for your phone from Historia, resulting in Sasha saving you at the last second from face-planting as Historia holds it out of your reach.

“Should we, like, do something?”

“Absolutely not,” Armin and Eren echo each other, looking at Connie as if he’d just suggested they all walk into oncoming traffic.

Eren watches as Historia grabs you by the wrist and drags you out of the bar, your feeble protests doing nothing to stop her insistent steps. Sasha follows both of you, gently pushing you along by the small of your back and shooting a regretful glance at Connie, mouthing a sorry as you all make your exit. It’s hardly been five minutes before Eren’s phone buzzes.

> had to leave. do you mind paying our tab if i venmo you? it’s under reiss.

Eren bites the inside of his cheek again, not worrying in the slightest about covering the tab, but more so the reason for your abrupt exit.

> yeah i got u everything ok?

> thanks a ton! see u next time.

It’s purposefully avoidant, especially coming from Historia, who never misses a chance to make fun of you good-naturedly. If you had been sick in the bathroom or far too drunk to stay, she would have come out and said it. Eren throws his card down, going to pay the hefty tab you and your friends racked up, but not daring to pay his own. After all of the shit that’s just gone down, he owes himself at least one more drink.

Once he’s signed, he pulls out his phone again, thumb hovering over your text thread, then Breeze’s, then yours again. Mindful of Armin’s prying eye over his shoulder, Eren sighs heftily and shuts his phone off, leaning in to order another shot. The following morning’s approaching quickly, whether he wants it to or not, and he’ll save his fucked-up emotions for the daylight.

#enjoyyyyy #sorry about no smut again but like #we have to get through some PLOT okay #also don't drink and text/call is the lesson from this chapter #trust me it'll make sense #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger series #aot x reader #eren jaeger fanfic #much ado about nothing #much ado universe

[daisynik7]

Give You Blue Masterlist

When your sky is grey, I will give you blue.

Pairing: Eren x f!reader, Reiner x f!reader (past relationship)

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Genre: college au

cw: explicit sexual content, language, angst, hurt/comfort, comedy, fluff - specific content warnings will be provided for each chapter

Summary: You and Reiner, childhood friends and high-school sweethearts, break-up in your sophomore year of college. This is the story about how you pick up the pieces of your heartbreak, with the help of your friends and especially your new RA, Eren Jaeger. A story where there are no villains or heroes, just normal people navigating through life and love, one day at a time.  

Author's Notes: Another college au series, yay! I hope you all like this one! All characters are college aged (19-22 years old). Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading!

Give You Blue Taglist | Give You Blue Playlist

Chapter Title and Summary (spoiler-free):

Chapter 1: How It Ends - Reiner breaks up with you the night before the new semester begins. With his car packed with both of your belongings, the hour long ride to campus the next day offers some clarity.

Chapter 2: First Impressions - You move into your new dorm with your best friend and roommate, Annie, where you update her on your current relationship status. That night, you meet Eren Jaeger, your new Resident Assistant.

Chapter 3: Umbrella - With your classes as a distraction, you manage to survive a month into your breakup. However, you hit a wall when you run into your ex for the first time since the start of the semester. And, as if it couldn't get any worse, you forget to bring an umbrella on a day with heavy rainfall. Luckily, someone comes to your rescue.

Chapter 4: Alone Together - You and Annie attend a dinner at the Mu Phi sorority house on campus. Reiner, on his way out of Delta Delta, ambushes you on the walk back to your dorm for a less than pleasant conversation. Later that week, RA Eren hosts a game-night for his fellow residents. But, with it being on a Friday right after midterms, he's disappointed when it flops. Fortunately, someone comes to his rescue.

Chapter 5: Dreams - Your friendship with Eren is taken to the next level. You have a sweet dream that turns into a nightmare. Eren tells his parents that he is considering changing his major.

Chapter 6: Gravity - You attend a party with Annie, only to run into Reiner unexpectedly. Mistakes are made and Eren is once again to the rescue, more than ever before.

Chapter 7: Electric - You and Eren share an intimate moment together, one that the both of you wish could last forever. 

Chapter 8: How It Begins - The conclusion of the series Give You Blue.

Epilogue: A little bonus chapter for our couple.

#eren jaeger #eren smut #reiner braun #reiner smut #eren x you #eren x reader #eren x y/n #eren fluff #reiner x reader #reiner x you #reiner x y/n #eren jaeger smut #series #give you blue #attack on titan #attack on titan smut #aot smut #aot fanfiction

[mochimooon]

DTF Only (Tinder Wh*re) - eren jaeger x reader 18+

pairing: Eren Jaeger x afab! Reader summary: On a six-day Tinder streak, you don't plan to stop for Friday night. Especially when Eren invites you out for a drink. word count: 4500+ notes: Part 7 of DTF Only. Aight, first time writing fanon! Eren. Ya'll know what to expect here. As always indented text refers to reader's messages. warnings: smut, explicit content, explicit language, oral sex (f! receiving), exhibitionism, semi-public sex, degradation, alcohol consumption, toxic power-play, name-calling, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex ☻ masterpost☻

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+ !!

Pieck’s message lights up your phone.

Another one??? 

You’ve outdone yourself. Six dates in a row and your streak continues tonight. 

The latest match, Eren invited you for a round of drinks. Simple and low-key. 

As far as appearance goes, you’re mesmerized. His striking features had you scrolling through both his profile and Instagram (included in his bio). Green eyes, tan skin, dark brown hair that fell just shy of his shoulders, styled mostly in a haphazard bun. Not to mention the number of shirtless selfies, it’s obvious: he knows he’s hot.

Arrogance isn’t usually your flavor, but glimpses of a tongue ring challenge you to expand your palate.

He’s such a WHORE!!  You can just tell

Yep. Whore-vibes.  And that tongue ring…😛

lol, freak. I’m so proud of you.  One week and you’re already thinking Colt who?

You laugh at that, albeit it’s a hollow one. A week later and you’re still not sure how to feel, and a part of you is concerned some untapped feelings will catch up to you later. 

Despite the fun you’ve had on these dates, Colt has creeped into your mind a few times, mainly because he’s the last person you were with. However, thoughts of him don’t linger long enough by the time you’re getting busy with your Tinder matches. 

Still, you do wonder what he’s up to. 

Is he on Tinder too in his city? If so, you don’t feel anything strongly about that. 

Just then, you get a new text message. 

Heading out now See you there ;)

Much like the other guys, you and Eren had exchanged personal numbers. You had no problem with it, preferring it that way you could call them if you had to, and vice versa. 

Almost ready 😊 Be there soon

…

It’s easy to find Eren at the bar. You might be pushing your luck, but you’re grateful that every guy you’ve matched with looks like their pictures (and even better in person). 

He’s snagged a table near the bar, a negroni, barely touched, indicating that he hasn’t been waiting long. As you approach, you take this opportunity to assess him, and your face warms the closer you get to the table. 

He’s…attractive, almost painfully so. An effortless kind of swagger in the way he sits on the chair, elbow bent over the edge, a hand stretched out on the table, tapping his fingers. You’re surprised that he’s not mobbed by a flood of men and women right now. 

Walking past the bouncer, green eyes zero in on you, lighting up like a radar. 

Eren gets to his feet, gliding forth to say your name in a smooth low tone. “Hey there, pretty girl.”

You shiver from the toned muscle you’re pressed against. “Hi, Eren, nice to meet you.”

“I opened up a tab,” he says as he returns to his seat. “Someone will come over and you can place an order.” As he speaks, you’re given the first glimpse of that tongue ring. 

You force yourself to look away to keep from drooling over it. “Cool, thank you. I didn’t keep you waiting long, did I?”

“Nah. Barely placed this order.” He points to the negroni. “You’re good.”

A waitress comes by in a second to take your drink order. 

“A tab’s open already,” Eren tells her. “Under Jaeger.”

You pause, mind reeling from the name. You wave it off. “Is this your go-to spot?"

Eren finishes a sip, nodding. “Yeah, my friend used to bartend here after college, and he always had the hook-ups. He doesn’t work here anymore, so the perks are gone, but it’s still a nice place to grab drinks.”

Your drink arrives a few minutes later, as you tell Eren about your week, omitting your previous Tinder escapades. He nods and hums to acknowledge that he’s listening, but his eyes are in deep thought, wandering from your face to your lips, down your neck with an indifferent expression. 

When you pause to have more of your cocktail, a smirk ghosts Eren’s lips. 

“So...let’s hear about this ex-boyfriend.” 

You raise a brow, taken aback. Not once did you mention Colt, so you’re at a loss as to why Eren would dig for that sort of detail.

Confused and a little peeved, you say, “That’s an awkward thing to ask about on a first date.” 

“I have a sixth sense.” Eren doesn’t parse his words. “Most women on Tinder are fresh out of a breakup and want to get under someone to forget them.” He shrugs. “Not judging at all. I’m more than happy to offer my service.”

Your brows knit together, unsure of what to do think of that. “Sounds like a hot take. I’m not going to talk about past relationships. It’s boring.”

This yields the opposite reaction you wanted from Eren. Because instead of dropping it, he leans closer, brow arched, ears peeled ready for gossip. “He was boring? How so?”

You purse your lips, averting his question. “What about you? On Tinder for a rebound hook up?”

The whore laughs, hearty and patronizing. “I’m not on the rebound.” 

“So, you’re telling me every date you’ve gone on so far was to serve as someone’s rebound?”

He shrugs again, unfazed. “Maybe not every date, but most. Again, no shade, just curious to know. I feel like I’m right though.”

Is that what you’re doing? Rebound fucks? You don’t see it that way. 

Sounds like he's just nosy. What he plans to do with any information you share about Colt, you’re not sure. But then Ymir’s voice rattles in your head from a phone conversation you had with her earlier that day.

You had just sent her screenshots of Eren’s profile.  

“Hoodrat for sure. I’d be careful, though.”

“Why? If all he wants is sex, who cares?” you had said. 

“I know you’re not interested in him like that,” Ymir continued. “What I mean is that a guy like Eren has a big ego. Game-playing, all that. Knowing you, that might get on your nerves before you get a chance to get naked with him.”

“Meaning?”

Ymir chuckled. “Meaning you’ve got an ego too.”

You wonder then if that’s why Eren’s so interested in knowing about your past relationship. Perhaps, it is a show of ego, a way for him to measure up or out-measure someone you’ve already been with. 

You busy yourself with your cocktail as Eren takes a long gulp of his negroni, green eyes flitting back to the bar. While you try to get to a better read on him, you’re unable to concentrate.

Your mind spins in circles, moving and bobbing like his Adam’s apple. He’s leaning against the barstool, in the same careless swagger. Ego or not, you hate to admit that he has every right to be full of himself.

Setting the glass down, Eren’s tongue falls out in a satiated sigh. You’re not discreet and Eren catches that. He grins, tongue swiping along his bottom lip. The metal stud sways like a pendulum. 

Your jaw slowly loosens, hooded eyes zeroed in on the piercing. 

“You like that?” Eren moves his tongue in a way that prods the stud out further. 

Oh, you like it a lot. Eren hadn’t displayed it fully on his profile, but a few pics of him laughing, you swear you caught the shine of metal in his mouth.

Recollecting your wits, you say, “Tell me about that piercing. Does it hurt?”

Eren shrugs, tapping a few fingers along the table. “Never had any complaints.”

A rush of heat soaks through your skin. You swallow, like a cat fixated on a shiny object. “I meant getting it pierced.”

He shakes his head, grin widening. “Just a little pressure when they stick it in.” This man is so shameless… “Pain is an afterthought.”

You can’t help it, your mind falls back into the gutter, deep into a rabbit hole, curious to know what a tongue like that could do between your legs. 

“I’m guessing your ex-boyfriend didn’t have a tongue piercing either?”

You deflate, irritation pricking the fantasy. “Let’s change the subject.”

“Still hurting from it?” Upon first impression, you didn’t expect Eren to channel anything other than arrogance. His softer tone is a sudden switch that you don’t realize has chipped away at your resilience to veer away from the topic. 

“Never really hurt from it,” you say, indifferent, hoping to put an end to the subject afterwards. “My routine’s changed, so that sort of sucks. I got really comfortable.”

Eren hums. “That’s dangerous. Complacency. I’m going to assume he was very vanilla too?”

You roll your eyes.  

Eren feigns innocence. “What?”  

“I don’t want to talk about breakups, past relationships, none of that…”

“Fine, what about your body count?” He snorts, again, feigning innocence when you don’t answer. “He wasn’t your only one, was he?”

You roll your eyes. Like after, there were also men before Colt. Though they didn’t compare to the roster you’ve had this week. Maybe it comes with age, but your sex life had never been better. “I’m on Tinder, what’d you think?”

This seems to shift Eren’s mood. The snark stutters across his features into a scowl. “Oh…so you’re on Tinder to hook up only?”

“Didn’t say that.”

“You’re not looking for a relationship though.” He leans back, looking scorned. “Body counts going up then.”

What’s his problem? He’s the walking incarnate of a fuckboy, but the idea of you laying up with other guys he doesn’t even know spurs this sudden attitude. You’re strangers, both single, full stop. 

He pushes his tongue against his cheek. “Is there any guy on Tinder you haven’t slept with?”

You balk, brows rising. However, the corner of your lips curl, less angry and more amused. Someone's competitive... “Are you upset that you’re not one of them?”

You expect another taste of his attitude, for his frown to deepen. You do not expect his eyes to light up, like a dare igniting. 

“Oh, you’re a brat.” He tops his drink with a grin. “That’s in my pay grade.”

You shouldn’t entertain this, you already know. You’re both far too old to be playing games for strangers that only met to inevitably hook-up. You also know you shouldn’t be turned on by this challenge across the table, green eyes and tongue-pierced. Heat gathers at the center of your thighs anyway.

“I don’t mind taming a brat,” Eren continues. 

“You’re an expert?” you challenge. “Because I don’t know what brat you’re talking about—"

His laughter cuts you short. “Oh no, you’re a brat alright. Tell me more about those Tinder hook-ups. Any of them better than that boyfriend of yours?”

At his condescending tone, your brow twitches. At the dark lust in his eyes, your thigh twitches.

“You seem really obsessed with knowing about my ex,” you say. “Are you trying to compensate for something?”

Eren tilts his head, smirk stiffening, a crack in his arrogant resolve. “Trust me,” he recovers. “I don’t need to compensate for anything.”

It’s like a bait you can’t resist, wanting to see to that promise. But you restrain yourself. Regardless of your intentions for being there, you can’t feed into ego, his or yours. However, Eren does make it difficult the more he pricks and needles. 

Eren takes your silence as an invitation to barb you more. “If I were to guess, he sucked at getting you off. That’s a shame, you’re too pretty to deal with someone like that.”

You can’t explain it, but you find yourself taking Eren’s bait, defending Colt. “He knew how to love.”

“But he didn’t know how to fuck.” He folds his arms. “You do. That’s why you’re on Tinder.”

Your blood is flushed with heat and agitation. What’s worse it that you don’t mind it, but your ego refuses to let you give him that satisfaction. As much as you would like to hook-up with Eren, you might have to cut your loss instead. 

Finishing your drink, you pucker your lips, tingling with the burn of alcohol. Eren frowns as you rise to your feet. 

“Thanks for the drink. Have a nice night.” 

Spinning a heel, you hear Eren scoff, beckoning you to come back and when you don’t, he clicks his tongue. But you don’t turn back, nor do you flinch when you hear the scrape of a barstool around the call of your name. 

“Shit—I need to close my tab—”

You’re outside, crossing the back lot when footsteps haunt your own, rushing to catch up. “Wait!” Your name spills out of Eren’s mouth. “Wait! Just—wait!”

You peer over your shoulder with surprising level-headedness, but the pulse of your wrist skips, caught in Eren’s grasp. 

Silence ensues as Eren catches his breath, fingers wrapped along your wrist to keep you from escaping. A few rogue strands have come loose along his hairline and his previous scowl inside the bar remains intact, though it has smoothed out since finding you. 

“Yeah?” You level him with the same sharp glare earlier, patience thinning and heart pounding, charged with the adrenaline. “What is it, Eren?”

He leads you a few paces towards a parked black car that you assume is his. 

“You know, you’re keeping me right now,” you say. 

Eren’s eyes snap up. “Whoever they are, they can wait.”

You scoff. “Right, because I was about to run off to my ex-boyfriend, that’s who you think is waiting for me, hm?”

At the mention of Colt, the humor resurfaces in Eren’s face, though it’s pinched with slight irritation. 

Fueled by the tension, you egg Eren on, delighting in the way his hand tightens around your wrist. 

“Like I said, he knows how to love.”

Eren snorts. “Right, right, you mean he bored you.”

“That’s what you say."

“That’s what I know.” Eren’s eyes darken, dropping your wrist to run his fingers along the side of your stomach. “He was gentle, wasn’t he? Because that’s how you like them.”

You narrow your eyes, warmth flooding your neck and gathering between your legs. “You don’t know how I like them.”

Whether it’s the heat of the moment or ego, you refuse to tell Eren that he’s right. Despite how healthy of a relationship, you and Colt had, overall, he didn’t satisfy your sexual needs. Sure, you always knew that, as did your friends. But that doesn’t mean Eren needs to hear it too. With nothing else to say, you fall silent, bristling from Eren’s touch.  

“So, I’m right,” Eren breathes as he leans closer, hands trailing south, beneath your skirt. He flicks his gaze up, and you acquiesce by not pushing him away.  

He finds the gusset of your bodysuit and raises a brow. His surprise fades away in seconds. The crotch of your bodysuit is snapped aside, and you wince. 

Fingers glide along the slit of your pussy that you fight to stand. Eren hisses a laugh, pleased to find you soaked. “Did your boyfriend make you this wet?” A knuckle presses against your center, and you release a shaky breath. “Did he?”

You mewl, shaking your head. 

“Didn’t think he did,” Eren whispers, arrogance distinct. He replaces his knuckle with his thumb as two fingers rub your folds and a third prods your entrance. 

Words evade you, dying on your tongue and you can only manage a gasp when his thumb quickens its pace. 

“Who’s making you wet then?”

The added pressure on your clit makes you gush, and the victory in Eren’s smirk makes it harder to resist his allure. 

You sputter, “Y—you.”

“Hm?” Eren’s third finger inches inside of you like a phantom touch, close but not enough to push past your walls. “Who?”

“You…Eren.” You’re so starved for more stimulation, you don’t care about your ego anymore, gladly tossing it away in exchange for relief.  

A finger slides into your pussy. You moan, tilting your hips. 

Eren breathes a laugh, tongue swiping his lip. “That’s a good little pussy.” He rewards you with another finger, pumping with enough vigor that promises to unravel you within seconds. 

Your back flattens against the side of Eren’s car, chest rising with sharp gasps. Your hooded gaze fixates on Eren’s unshaken stare. His equilibrium combined with deft fingers bring you to the edge, your pleasure almost crests. 

The pace dials down significantly, and you’re rolling back down the hill of a stable mind. Eren’s fingers continue to pump inside of you at a much slower rhythm, the pressure on your clit has reduced to featherlight.

You blink up at him, bucking your hips to reignite the dying embers in your lower belly. 

Eren’s keen on taunting you, pressing onto your clit again with renewed pressure.

Breathless, you say, “Eren, don’t stop.”

He doesn’t listen, wearing a mask of mock confusion. “Oh. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you need.” His fingers pull away. 

You snatch up his wrist, a desperate plea in your grip, leveling him with a yearning gaze. “Eren, I want you to fuck me.”

Victory pulls at the corner of Eren’s lips, his hand stroking your face in a delicate manner. “You want to get out of here?”

You rise on your tiptoes, giving him a heavy nod, hypnotized by the tension crackling from your bodies.

“I can take you back to my place. Give you the best rebound fuck of your life.”

You nod again, hasty and urgent, voice lost in the rising tide of desire. 

“You want that?” Eren husks.

You swallow. “Mhm.”

Eren erases the miniscule gap with a press of his forehead against yours, a taunting glimmer in his eyes. “Too bad.”

The car door flies open, and you’re tossed inside, hitting the leather of the backseat. There’s little time to process anything, and no time to adjust your skirt that’s rolled up your thighs. Eren climbs in, pushing the fabric up. 

His mouth is on yours, sucking the air from your lungs. When he pulls back, your head spins. 

“Tinder whores don’t get fucked in private.” Sliding down, your thighs are hitched over his shoulders. “They get fucked in a parking lot.” He flashes the stud on his tongue, moving his mouth to push it out.  

Your thighs quiver, hand digging into the leather seat.

Eren’s gaze falls to your pussy, ego resting on the edge of his smile. “Shit, you should see yourself right now. You’re dripping. You want to me to treat you like a whore. You need me to have a taste, huh?”

You would like to clapback, wishing for something snippy to spill out. But it would betray the anticipation flowing through your body. Whether Eren means it or not, you enjoy his overconfidence, aching at the degradation, growing wetter from it. Colt would never entertain such a concept. 

Pride nowhere to be seen, you nod, biting your lip; pleased and pliant to be the whore he makes you out to be. 

Eren’s brows rise, grinning, nonetheless. He yanks you closer by the hips, and for a moment you’re aware of the open car door. Although the lot is empty, anyone can walk by, sneak a peek over to witness what Eren’s preparing to do to you. And you moan despite all that. 

“Time to chase that drink down.” There’s a strain to Eren’s words like he’s in need to gulp down his drool. He doesn’t, letting his tongue hang and a dribble of saliva meets the slick of your pussy. 

“Oh—oh!” You lift your head, eager to get a visual of what you’re feeling. Eren’s piercing juts out, extending that the hard metal presses onto your clit. Your hips buck up to meet the stud again. 

Eren’s mouth slots over your pussy, dragging his tongue along the slit, tongue ring grazing between your folds. It’s a foreign sensation, sparking more pleasure when it meets your clit again with a flick of his tongue.

Eren comes up, eyes deeper, richer, and lecherous. His sharp inhale sounds more like a slurp. “Fuck…you taste perfect to me.” You whine as his tongue meets your folds again, tongue ring nudging your pussy lips. “Cum on my tongue, yeah?” It falls out like a desperate demand.

“Yeah…ah!”

Eren’s tongue slides into your entrance, pushing past the flesh. You can feel the tongue ring exploring your walls, not as distinct as you expected it to be. However, it’s Eren’s technique that has you staggering close to release. 

He’s ruthless, eating you out with an insatiable appetite. Two fingers press onto your clit, swiping in a stride that sparks your pulse. 

“Ah—Eren—” You grind against his hold, climbing that peak of ecstasy. You grab hold of Eren’s hair by the bun to keep yourself steady.

Eren swaps techniques, fingers replacing his tongue to massage the spongy spot inside of you while the tip of his tongue laps at your clit. The pressure from the stud and the curling of his fingers, set you free, the world unraveling in the backseat of his car as you cry out your release.

Eren’s fingers pull away, he slurps you up as your body twitches around him, recovering from the rush of pleasure.

Your mindless as he cleans you up, hand carding into his hair lazily. 

It’s like time’s been pulled from beneath you when he resurfaces, crawling over.

Tilting his head, he smirks. “Are you still there?”

You nod slowly, head floating. Words are robbed with Eren’s mouth on yours. His tongue slides along yours, stroking you with his stud. 

Breaking apart, you and Eren catch your breaths. 

At the sight of Eren’s dark gaze, your mind returns to you, punctuated with a telltale bulge pressed against your pussy.

Pleasure renews and you shudder.

“We’re not finished yet,” Eren says.

You lick your lips, brows furrowing together to fill the blanks you’re unable to verbalize. 

Eren’s amused by your silence. “Nothing to say to me? Does my little whore need a break?”

You bite your lip again, needing more friction between your legs. Trembling thighs wrap around him.

Eren takes your chin, leveling you with a look, overflowing with confidence. “Use your words…I haven’t fucked you dumb yet.”

You shake your head, watching a flame flicker behind Eren’s eyes, a challenge sparking there. “No, now, c’mon, just fuck me already before I change my mind.”

You both know you don’t mean it, but it doesn’t stop Eren from teasing you.

His arms cage you on either side of your head, voice dripping with arrogance. “I think I’ve done my part convincing you, angel.” 

Your pussy weeps at the pet name. 

In a flash, Eren pushes away, hunched over to reach in the center console. His teeth rip into the condom’s wrapper, watching you with hunger. He undoes his belt, shoving down his boxers in haste.

His cock springs free, pearly with precum. You want to get a glimpse of his manhood, but you’re pinned to the leather. He moves so quickly, doesn’t bother to stroke himself, already rock hard and ready to burst. The condom slips on, and he draws closer, yanking your thighs in. 

The tip of his dick kisses your entrance. The pressure alone is enough warning of his size. You meet his eyes and spread your thighs as far as they can go in the tight space. 

He falls forward again, elbows bent on the seat your head lays upon, green eyes fixed on your face. He pushes into you. “Gonna mold this slutty pussy to take me.” 

The stretch pushes air from your chest in a pleased moan, and he slides in until he’s fully sheathed inside of you.

He gives you no time to adjust, doesn’t waste any to flex his ego anymore. He fucks into you hard and erratic, hovering so close to your face.

It’s an oddly intimate view, you forget that you’re being fucked in the backseat of his car in a parking lot. However, you’re a sucker for eye contact and relish his hooded gaze, bewitched by the feel of you clenching around him. 

Labored breaths fill the backseat, steaming up the windows from the passion between your bodies. 

Eren grunts out your name. “Fuck! This pussy is still so tight—”

On cue, your walls clamp down on his girth, an animalistic sound rumbles in his Eren’s throat. 

“Fuck—fuck—” Eren’s tongue pushes past your lips. He pulls away with a smile, a surprising tenderness in his eyes, contrasting his rough nature.

Eren’s hand plants itself against the fogged window, and the other travels south, rubbing your clit in a hurry. “Want you to gush over my cock.”

You writhe like a spirit reawakened, clawing at the leather interior again, and that’s when you feel it—arching your back as you cum for the second time. 

Eren’s hips slam into yours, hot pursuit of his own release that tears through him a moment later, in a long-satiated groan. 

You watch him fall apart, eyes shut, brows pinched. His jaw hangs open, giving you another peek of the tongue ring.  

A moment passes. Eren’s fingers slip from the window, arm shaking from the impact of his climax, his body sinks. 

You press your hands against his chest to keep him from crushing you. 

Eren catches himself, hovering over you. “Thanks.” He blinks at the window with a grin. “Look at that. We fogged up the place.”

Your head tilts. Fingerprints streaked along the glass, clashing with the sudden chill that enters the backseat. 

You scoff lightheartedly, reeling from the throws of passion and the excitement of having tried something daring, something you’ve always fantasized. A carnal itch has been scratched. 

Car sex. You’re a new fan.

…

Eren gives you a lift home. 

You point out your complex. “That building just before the stop sign.” 

The car rolls to a stop at the front, the engine shutting off. 

Unbuckling your belt, you pull out your keys, hand on the door.

Eren takes your other hand, reeling your attention back as you turn to him. 

He’s smug, and you can’t deny that you feel the same way. Though what he says takes you aback. 

“Um…I didn’t mean any of that by the way. You’re not a whore.”

Your shoulders slacken with the release of a faint laugh. “Oh, don’t worry, I didn’t take you seriously. I didn’t mind being called one.” You bat your eyes. “Or…fucked like one.”

The corner of Eren’s lip curled, widening with pride. “I’m up for another round, any time.” He kisses your knuckles. “I’ll text you.”

Like the other guys, Eren was not a bad lay. But with him, you don’t put stock into anything he says. You’re not naïve, too mature to act like a school-girl to his charms. He’s a womanizer at heart. 

A new notch on your belt is all. 

You open the door. “Sure, have a good night.”

☻ masterpost☻ taglist: @moonmalice @daisynik7 @theragethatisdesire @squidalapobre @arlerts-angel @shepnicolo @porples-blog @jeanboyjean @fictional-d-supremacy

#eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger #attack on titan #eren x reader #eren x you #eren jaeger x you #eren yeager #eren yeager x reader #aot x reader #eren aot #eren smut #aot smut #eren jaeger smut #dtf only series #eren yeager smut #eren yeager x you #snk #aot #snk smut #mochi-writings

[chrollohearttags]

reverb: chapter ten

synopsis: after making the decision to show up to Armin’s yacht party, courtesy of her sis and uncle’s advice, (Y/N) lets loose and unwinds alongside big time names and familiar faces. Even with the event in full swing and not a thing to worry about, her mind can’t help but linger on the man who had all but flipped her world upside down (for the better, of course!) and where he was on this wonderful night. Almost certain that he had declined his own best friend’s invitation, (y/n) washes her hands of the idea that she’ll ever cross paths with the rapper ever again. But she’s taken aback when he makes a surprise appearance and with only one goal in mind: whisking her away for some alone time! Hot, drunken hookups and heavy love making await the couple for the weekend ahead. But what follows them after a second rendezvous? A potential relationship or more confusion?

word count: 10.4K

content + themes: sexual content (this is almost entirely porn with 30% plot), alcohol use, 69, fingering, body worship, mentions of weed, creampie/cumshot, missionary, drunk sex, oral (m. receiving), reverse cowgirl, back shots, squirting, daddy’s used like twice, hair pulling, lotsss of dirty talk, remnants of toxic EJ.

“So do you run game on dudes like that too?” “No baby, I don’t play with my food…I devour it.”

📝: When I tell y'all I have missed this story dearly and couldn’t wait to update it more frequently. I’m even more grateful that y’all feel the same. 🥹 seeing yalls support, the way y’all ask when the new chapter is coming and headcanons of this story has truly made me happy bc I honestly thought everyone was tired of it. But it will not be going anywhere anytime soon! Hope you guys enjoy this chapter (I got a feeling you will 🌚)!

previous chapter <<<

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The initial shock of the moment hadn’t quite processed for you and you couldn’t be certain if it was truly who you thought it was standing before you. Surely, he wouldn’t show up to something like this, even if it was for his friend. He hated large crowds, he hated social gatherings and being in these sorts of environments was not this man’s style. Yet here he was, in the flesh!

“N-no, not at all..” turning to face him as he pulled the chair out to take a seat. But not before giving you the tightest hug in the process and you swore you could’ve died right there! He smelled so good; the essence of his cologne wafting through your nose and felt so warm. He was like twice your size and it brought a swarm of butterflies throughout the pit of your tummy. “I missed you.” Admitting whilst wrapped in his arms and he’d return the sentiment. “I missed you too.” Just as you were greeting your acquaintance, the bartender would slide another glass across the marble countertop and you’d thank him once more. Your eyes couldn’t help but to be fixated on Eren though…tan skin glistening underneath the moonlight, he was dressed like everyone else on the boat in a two piece outfit that had his pecs and abs exposed. His chain sitting idly on his chest; diamonds flickering underneath all the lighting and when he’d flash you a smile, you’d see the bottom row of his teeth littered with matching grills. He was so insanely attractive and without effort!…

“And here I was thinking you’d withstand the heat of peer pressure and not show up. Looks like we both got dragged along, huh?” That deep, somewhat raspy voice rang in your ear as you watched him wave the bartender over. He’d asked for four shots of Casamigos and offered to cover the remainder of your tab as well.

“Mm, I guess you could say that. I had my own reasons for showing up.” Amidst your conversation, he’d slide a glass over to you as well. “Really? And what might that be?” “You’re a smart man, I’m sure you can figure it out.” The subtle gestures shared between you guys were teeming with tension. It was blatantly obvious that regardless of how much time had passed, you weren’t exactly on bad terms. In fact, you’d even chock it up to that old cliche about distance making the heart grow fonder. Not only that, with the physical attraction between you two was so utterly strong, it was impossible to just write that off. You’d chuckle amongst yourselves and clink those cups together before knocking back your first half of the set. The tingle of the liquor coursing through each of your veins…if you weren’t careful, you’d find yourselves in the same predicament..it was bad enough that your first little rendezvous almost ended up all over the internet. Even without his face in the camera, people were still speculating that the abrupt conclusion to your livestream was caused by your man..who didn’t exist! Shrugging his shoulders, Eren tossed back another and merely chuckled to himself. “Gonna take a wild guess and say it’s not the buffet downstairs.” Running a finger along the rim of your glass, (y/n) let out a soft giggle and licked the remnants of salt from it. You loved his sarcasm, even when others found it repulsive.

“No but the shrimp puffs? Good as hell.” “Listen, if you wanna go stuff your purse full, I’ll stand watch.” “Already ahead of you. Gotta get my money’s worth out this new Birkin somehow..” Assuring before turning to face him. He couldn’t help but to burst into laughter at your quick witted response to his joke. “Damn…my type of woman.” The two of you cackling before clicking the top of your glasses together. Honestly, there was no point in playing coy or acting like total strangers. Why even beat around the bush and pretend that he wasn’t on your mind? Kind of hard to ignore a man who ate your pussy to the point of literal tears! This little charade was kind of cute but futile nonetheless. You knew exactly what you came here looking for tonight and now that he had shown up, there was truly no need to stick around. Everything else seemed like background noise..mind numbing, useless chatter when he was around. So instead of wasting any more time, he’d usher the bartender over once more to give you guys one last round and a pretty hefty tip of fifty bucks for his troubles. With those drinks flowing and the liquor beginning to loosen you both up, you’d use the liquid courage for the purpose of getting your words out. Express those feelings and say what was weighing on you guys' chests' and addressing the obvious elephants in the room.

“Heard you’ve had a rough couple of weeks…hope you’ve been doing alright. I was thinking about you..” declaring in that raspy tone as he avoided direct eye contact, knowing you’d more than likely get his heart to flutter if he did so. Those innocent eyes, pouty lips and pretty face was his Achilles heel, truly! The same way his devilishly handsome looks caused a pang in the pit of your stomach. You could stare at him for days and never grow tired..it’s the same way you felt when you first saw him in that viral video, singing to his heart's content at the shoe store he was working at....in awe of him then as an adoring fan and in awe of him now, as a little something more. In regards to his statement, you’d merely laugh it off and toss back another shot. The circle of emotions you had gone through over the past few days was an understatement of how you truly felt. Grief, anger, sadness, confusion and finally, a bit of happiness. You weren’t trying to drudge them back up at the moment. Of course, seeing him contributed a bit to the joy.

“How sweet of you..but I’m okay now. Much better than I was at least.” Which was an understatement because just a few days ago, you were hurled over a toilet after drinking more than half your body weight. Needless to say, you refused to go back down that path. That was a relief to him, especially after getting a brief rundown of your ordeal. Out of respect or not wanting to ruin the mood, he’d refrain from mentioning it. Instead, he’d nod and tell you that he was glad you were doing better. Even looking you up and down when those subtle glances. But you couldn’t help but to feel the same..it was blatantly obvious that the dormant tension between you two hadn’t dissipated at all. Rather, it was only growing and soon, sparks would fly yet again.

“I could ask you the same thing though. I saw you all over Instagram..” The declaration caused immediate fluster from the rapper. His cheeks glowing bright red at the sheer thought of you seeing him in that state. Normally, he wouldn’t have given a shit how people perceived him but needless to say, you weren’t other people! He didn’t want you thinking less of him because of some dumb mishap. “Yeah, about that..it was nothing. Just another misunderstanding. Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry I hadn’t hit you up though. Guess I’ve been kinda busy.” But he’d be surprised to learn that you aligned with his decision just as much. Taking one more sip, you’d nod your head and listen to him tiptoeing around his explanation. Not that he had to explain a thing to you or anyone else. You would’ve liked to have thought that you had a rather keen sense of judgment when it came to reading others..that you could tell when someone was a good person or just pretending to be and although EJ came off as brash and nonchalant, you could tell that deep down, he was the former.

“Nah, you good. Hey, if somebody scratched up my new car, I would’ve blanked too. Don’t feel bad.” The words seemed to have put him in a far better headspace regarding his decisions. You weren’t judging him or turning away at the mention of it. But your next piece made him even more elated. “I know it can’t be fun having people in your face like that and they expect you not to react. Besides…I ain’t never seen somebody look fine as hell in their mugshot.” And something about having that encouragement from you made him feel all the more comfortable with his decision. Suddenly, a cheeky grin would appear across his face and he’d laugh a bit, thinking about how similar the two of you were. It was crazy, but he had never met anyone quite like the lovely (y/n).

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were flirting with me.” Joking once more and just like the first time, you met it with equal humor. “Perhaps. You’re kinda cute when you blush.” Becoming even more tickled by your praise…if it’s one thing he loved more about a woman than her physical appearance, it was her personality and you had a ton of it. He hated to admit it but a girl who could make him laugh could get him out of his clothes real quick! “Aye, you said you came with your girl, right? Did she ditch you or something?” Inquiring as if he couldn’t already make a pretty presumptive guess and figure out where she was. Holding your glass, you’d roll your eyes at the thought of your bestie getting cracked while she left you around a bunch of practical strangers. Thank goodness EJ had shown up, otherwise, you would’ve been looking mighty awkward. “If by ditch, you mean go hump on her man like a damn dog?..then absolutely.” “That quick, huh? Getting involved with that dumbass willingly can’t be good. She better be careful.” However, you’d beg to differ. You knew your best friend better than anyone so it made perfect sense that they were messing around. Still cradling that glass, (y/n) attempted to mask your laughter but it was of no use because you knew what she was capable of. He had nothing to worry about! “Save your well wishes. Haven’t met a man yet she hasn’t left crying. It’d be a miracle if your homeboy doesn’t end up in her jar of souls too.” The banter about your best friends sending you two into hysterics; laughing and cackling. Talking about how equally toxic they both were..it seemed that your energy should be focused elsewhere. Perhaps on your own little situationship..that’s when things would escalate a little further and a little more lecherous as well. “Shit..so do you run game on dudes like that too?” Posing the question as a means to tease you but you merely saw it as a way to get his blood rushing..in more ways than one. And to let him know what type of time you were on. “No baby, I don’t play with my food….I just devour it.” Alluding to your impeccable oral skills with the twirl of your tongue around the cherry that was resting in your martini. He was going to end up fucking you right there against that railing if you didn’t stop! That’s when Eren had to regroup and remember where he was at the moment.

“Well speaking of devour…you look amazing tonight.”

those jade eyes of his surveying your entire frame from head to toe, sending you into complete fluster. Not only was that alcohol starting to course its way through his system but he had done a little pregaming with a blunt shortly before arriving. The combination of being cross faded and seeing that milky white bikini against your beautiful brown skin, had him fighting off thoughts he shouldn’t have. Granted, he hadn’t been able to get you off of his mind since the first time you had sex. He was stuck for days afterwards, thinking about how amazing you felt and how he had never had a woman quite like you. How well you took him and everything. Little did he know, that was merely a teaser for what you could really do. Given the time and opportunity, you’d make sure he’d never wanna leave you alone. But his mind wasn’t the only one running wild with indecent thoughts because the second he came aboard deck, you had to stop yourself from pouncing on his ass! You’d never say so out loud but this man had been on your mind everyday since Houston. Even in the midst of your depression, you’d longed for him. Going as far to imagine him holding and comforting you during your difficult time. Also, what you neglected to tell him was that his mugshot, the one you referenced circulating Instagram had made you hot and incredibly bothered!…as bad as it was, you had never seen someone look so good in such a vulnerable state. Not only that, seeing him up close with those grills beaming from his mouth…it was unreal. It made you wonder what he’d look like with them on whilst eating your—

“You think so? Good enough to eat, huh?” “Good enough to get licked, sucked..whatever you want. Almost made me trip over my damn self when I saw you..” scooting closer as he doubled down on the sentiment. He was far past the point of being shy and he hoped you were as well. If he could truly be real…in all honesty, he was trying to end the evening with you fucking up his sheets. That pussy was the best he’d ever had and he most certainly wanted a second helping. Inching closer, the two of you slowly began bridging that distance between your bodies. “I think you’re just being nice.” Causing the sexual tension to rise even higher…anyone from the outside looking in would most certainly say the same. Including the bartender, who had been stealing glances at the two of you. Even he could see how madly infatuated EJ was. Taking his hand, you’d toy with his fingers and inevitably close the gap of space between you.

“....you sure that’s not just the liquor talking?” Sarcastically teasing him as you ran a long acrylic finger down the center of his chest. Those pouty lips breaking into yet another smirk when he glanced down at you; the gleam of those diamonds in his mouth refracting against the lights.. eliciting a full body shudder from you. But alas his response was exactly what you were hoping to hear. “Nah, that was from the heart..” and in that moment, EJ would wave you towards him with two fingers before whispering into your ear. The gravelly voice uttering the most lascivious of sentiments. Leaving you unable to mask or hide your reactions. Uttering every nasty thing he planned to do if you’d let him. All you could do was chew profusely at your bottom lip and try to feign your facial expressions with a hand cupped across your mouth. “That was the liquor talking.” There was no doubt of the type of time he was on and it would seem your clock was ticking just the same.

“EJ. Quit playing. You tryna’ get a bitch in trouble.”

“You should know by now that’s my favorite pastime.” Hitting you with a smug look before sipping his drink. Luckily, no one seemed to have heard you two at the moment. “Speaking of…you still got that limp or you good?” Besides, you’ve said and done far worse at this point. But that’s exactly why you wouldn’t leave him alone any time soon. Smacking your lips, (y/n) furrowed your brow while taking another sip of the liquor.. “..no, but I see you still have that slick ass mouth.” “Yeah. Better come shut me up then..” Subtly flicking his tongue in his drink to resemble that of his movements he used on you a couple weeks ago. If anyone would’ve spotted you guys, they would’ve sworn you were a couple..but you were having the time of your life, being flirtatious and having fun. No labels needed. Especially with a vibe like this. It just came naturally..

it was at that moment, you realized that this was your cue to bow out gracefully and get the hell up out of here. It was blatantly obvious what was on the forefront of both of your minds so you didn’t care to even talk to anyone else at the moment. The fact that he managed to slip by undetected by everyone else and bumped into you on his first encounter was nothing more than the universe intervening. He wasn’t about to wait around long enough for someone to come bothering him and delay his inevitable plans with you any longer. Or wind up in an awkward confrontation with people he had no interest in talking to at the moment. Not with you practically clinging to one another; your arms coiling his torso and his around your shoulders, he’d glance down once more and pose a question:

“So you trying to leave with me or what? I don’t really see a need to stick around here..what you think?” And of course, the answer was rather simple as well.

“..what took you so long to ask?” He needed no further explanation and after tipping the bartender once, thanking him for his service, EJ would extend his hand, guiding you out of your seat and following suit right after. The faithful attendant would toss him a wink; a signal among men that knew what was about to transpire. Tonight, however..you weren’t much in the mood to be docile or let him get the drop on you. Little did he know nor was he aware that you were about to give him a night he’d never forget..walking hand in hand with you trailing a couple steps ahead of him, you’d glance over your shoulder to tease him..only fueling that desire even more. “Don’t be staring at my ass now.” Only to be met with an expected, sarcastic retort, along with a smug grin. “Telling me not to look when you sat it on my face three weeks ago is crazy.” Immediately sending you into laughter. “Shut uppp.” It felt good to have amusement like this. However, the fun was only beginning! ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

page break and time skip bc I shall spare you all the unimportant details + I cannot be vexed to write them.

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thirty minutes and one long Uber ride later, (y/n) found yourself stepping foot over the threshold of the spacious mansion, owned and occupied by the man who had accompanied you tonight. A whopping seven thousand square foot home with seven rooms and six baths. It was huge..the kind you would’ve only ever seen on television as a kid. Yet here you were being invited in with open arms by this world famous, fine ass rapper. Nineteen year old (y/n) was somewhere screaming! Turning to you as he extended his jewelry flooded fingers, Eren reached out to pull you in so he could shut the door behind you both. You couldn’t stop gawking at how picturesque this place was!

“Don’t be shy, beautiful. You’re my guest.” Immediately tugging you towards his chest and swaddling you in an embrace. “I apprecIate the hospitality. You have a beautiful place here.” But in all truthfulness, there was only one area either of you were interested in at the moment and that was the bedroom. That much was apparent by the snide grins on both your faces as they met only a few inches apart. Your head was practically buried in his chest because of the stark height difference until he tilted it up by your chin. That pretty face was going to be the death of him..with another hand coiled around the small of your back, he’d hold you close; observing you for a moment.

“Well I’d be happy to give you a grand tour..” of course, there was the latter option and he was certain you’d choose it, seeing as how your hands were roaming all over his exposed chest. “But something tells me you’d rather wait.” Not to mention, the way you were teasing him through his shorts in the backseat of that car. Running your tongue along his earlobe and whispering in it how turned on you were. He knew you were freaky but this was a different side of you tonight..not that he was complaining whatsoever! How could he when this sexy ass woman was practically begging for the dick? Now, with no limitations or disturbances, he could do exactly that. So in a matter of seconds, EJ shoved his tongue into your mouth whilst gliding those hands lower down your frame until both palms were cusped around those thick asscheeks..only sheathed by the thin cover up tied around your waist. It didn’t take long at all for that intensity to kick back up. Initiating a series of sloppy kisses, he’d push his tongue farther in between your jaws until you were moaning into the pecks. Heavy traces of that liquor still prevalent on your breath. Those plush lips smacking against his own and his fingertips gripping the plumpness of your cheeks. Occasionally feeding you light spanks..he couldn’t recall the last time he’d felt up on a woman that drew forth such intense emotions from him. “Can’t believe it’s been three weeks..needed you so bad..” whimpering against his lips; gently rutting yourself in his grasp as your hands snaked up around the back of his neck. He couldn’t resist those sweet moans and those beautiful eyes gazing upon him full of lust. “Did you? You missed me, baby?” Questioning rhetorically with a faint smirk. Tapping at your bottom lip with his thumb. He could tell you were feigning and although he felt the same, he wanted to hear you say the fateful words. He wanted you to let him know exactly what you needed. Something about getting a woman addicted to him inflated his ego. “Yes..couldn’t stop thinking about you..” And you had no problem doing so..shuffling you to a nearby wall with his frame towering over your own, he'd bring a finger underneath your chin, drawing your faces to eye level. Your words slurring slightly and his reactions a little slow but you both were well aware of what you wanted and needed.

“Well tell me…what’s on your mind?..I’m all ears..” displaying those silver bottoms once more with a wide simper. If he stared at you any longer, you were afraid your knees would buckle. It was then that you’d feel those digits snaking from your backside all the way to the front of your torso..so casually slipping between the thin seat of that bikini. Immediately causing your breath to catch in the back of your throat. That’s when you’d whisper into his ear, whimpering about you needing him to fuck the shit out of you and how you were so wet at the moment.

“It’s like that then?”

“Been like that..”

hearing such a bold proclamation come from your mouth made him ready to pounce but he maintained restraint. He had his fair share of plans to do that already but first…more so than anything, he wanted you to keep talking. Keep telling him all the thoughts that plagued your mind when he wasn’t around. Slowly working those digits around, he’d let one slip inside of you and impale you on it, allowing you to ride it down to the knuckle. He couldn’t lie..he’d had a few hookups in his lifetime, specifically when he became famous and granted, they were good. A model here or some married singer or actress there who had no business at his show in the first place there..or even some fan who told him her boyfriend was out of town but she could keep a secret and he’d make sure she got her money’s worth if she were bad enough. Mainly done out of sheer boredom and to shut his friends up about how he needed to live a little more. But they were nothing like you..not one of them could ever think to hold a candle and that was exactly why he was doubling back. It’d be times that he’d find himself lying in bed; replaying the imagery of you underneath him, watching the recoil of your thick ass bouncing as he fed you backshots. Staring at your pretty face in missionary and watching you wet him up each time you came. He had to all but restrain himself from fucking you into the mattress because it felt so good!..not to mention when you managed to stall Niesha for the evening and there were no limitations. He had you all to himself that night and he took full advantage. The memories of you with your legs folded behind your head as he dicked you down. The visible imprint in your stomach and the sheath of cream smacking between his balls. Not to mention the way you squirted for him at will. Making and maintaining eye contact whilst he rubbed your clit. It was hands down, the best fuck session he’s ever experienced and had it not been a shame, he would’ve asked you to be his girl right there on the spot! That’s how stuck (y/n) had the infamous EJ..

but it wasn’t just the sexual aspect of it. It was your energy..he felt comfortable and safe around you, as weird as it may have seemed. The way you not only begged him but submitted yourself fully. Not in a fit of desperation in hopes of being with him. More or less telling him: ‘Imma give you this pussy, I trust you know what to do with it..’ He didn’t take you as the type to go run your mouth or try to ‘expose’ him if things ever went south either. He’d lurk in your comments and lives, where people were already speculating about you two. But you ignored every one of them. Your only words were ‘he’s one of my favorite artists. That’s it. Don’t talk about people and make up shit when they’re not here to defend themselves..’ followed by a block if they kept pushing it. It was no one’s business what the two of you did. Hence why he told all of his staff they were off for the weekend, for his boys not to come bothering him and his assistant to stay away..he had plans and they didn’t involve anyone else but you. Giving you one more sloppy kiss, Eren would slowly and reluctantly withdraw his fingers from inside of you and allow you to clean off your own flavor before ushering you over towards the foyer area. Out of courtesy and respect, he didn’t make you walk far but rather, showed you one of the many nifty little perks within his house..including the discreetly hidden elevator shaft near the staircase.

“Let’s go upstairs..I think we can work sum’ out.”

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gonna drop a lil song suggestion here while reading

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after making the short journey from the downstairs to the master bedroom, all bets were safe to be said off. Completely free for you to do as you pleased and he wasted no time in taking advantage of the empty nest. With the door shut and bolted behind you, he’d make haste in scooping you up and getting you out of those clothes entirely. Toiling with the strings of those swimsuit bottoms, he’d untie each side and let them fall to the floor beneath you. From there, his hands made place right back on your ass, roaming and caressing gently. He’d squeeze and smack the soft ample flesh..getting a good feel. Even marking them with a couple heavy handed smacks. “Damn, this shit’s so big..” mumbling as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. Constantly smacking and admiring the supple flesh that was your rear. He loved the softness, the jiggle and the ripple effect that was drummed forth by his hands. You were both so intoxicated that every feeling and emotion coursing through your bodies were ten times more intense. Saying whatever comes to mind without a filter, rhyme or reason. Eventually, his lips would trail from your neck down to your collarbone with his hands roaming the rest of your frame. Just to really get him aroused, you’d bounce those cheeks on your lonesome and make them twerk in his grasp. “Fuck..” still in awe of how stacked you were. Your body was incredible and all natural to boot. He’d lost count of how many times he’d watch you shake it on Instagram and how mesmerized he was. Nothing against the girls that took the surgical route but your physique just hit different. Seeing the stretch marks across that ass and your thighs jiggling when you moved it had him salivating and ready to see it in action again. “You like it?” “Mhmmm..love it.” Muttering into your shoulder blade as his lips grazed the skin. His hands soon ran up the sides of your torso and to your breasts. By now, the two of you had shuffled over to the foot of his king size bed and he was teetering backwards as he felt you up. In one fell swoop, he’d cup your tits into his palms and squeeze gently once more.

“Can I take this off too?” “Of course..” Mumbling so sweetly against your lips. You loved that he asked for your consent but you all but begged him to remove that top before he’d place those perfect double D cups in his palms and flicked his tongue around those sensitive nipples. Meanwhile, you couldn’t just sit idle and complicit either..so instead, (y/n) trailed a hand down the center of his abdomen; your nails scaling that chiseled six pack until you reached the drawstring on his shorts. While he delicately pecked and licked on those little brown buds, you would take the liberty of stroking him through his boxers. The wide elastic band with ‘Dolce and Gabbana’ inscribed across the top being tugged down in the midst of your hand cradling his shaft. That entire lower half was stripped bare in less than a minute once you began playing with him. So much so, he lost concentration on the task he was focusing on and brought his mouth back up to meet your own; swishing your tongues around in a sloppy manner that ended with two half smirks and strings of saliva from you both. But not before you’d whisper a rather lecherous request against his lips…

“Lemme taste you, baby..”

and who was he to deny a pretty lady’s command? Falling back onto the foot of the bed, Eren wasted no time peeling off the remainder of his clothes, including the socks, slides and the button down shirt he had on. “Please, feel free..” His pants and boxers were already pooling at his ankles as you had removed them yourself. He’d take a seat and allow you to maneuver his body as you saw fit. Positioned on your knees, you’d run those nimble hands along his thighs; marked with scattered tattoos and flick your tongue around. You could spend hours admiring him..tracing your fingertips along the perimeter of his inner crevices, you’d slowly work your way up to his exposed shaft. Seeing it at this angle truly put into perspective just how big he was. Nine inches long, veiny but with ample girth and a puffy tip. Not to mention, it looked so pretty all trimmed around the base and glistening with precum. No wonder you were crying and making a mess last time. His dick was so fucking beautiful…meanwhile, he’d recline with his arms stretched backwards and a tiny quiver on his lip as he waited in anticipation at your next move. Suddenly, he’d feel and see that tongue run up the bottom side of that shaft before your first would enclose the top half. You’d slowly stroke from the tip up; getting it far more stimulated. You were about to show him the effect you had on the men who’d cross paths with you before. Although you could count them on one hand and only a few fingers, you knew they’d come running back if you told them. Rather than some toxic game of cat and mouse, you preferred to make them fall for you. Ensure that no matter what..or who they were with, you’d always be at the forefront of their minds. It wasn’t uncommon for an ex to be trying to spin the block whilst in a new relationship. Mad at their old girl for not fucking them the way you did, some broke ass nigga who never stood a chance to begin with or some spiteful rapper who could only hope you acknowledged him would throw shade in his new song..but you could care less. You only doubled back if they were worth the time. And so far..

“Damn… ‘s so big.”

he was the only one worth the trouble! Any man who could leave you stuck like that, could always get some pussy! Gliding your hand up the side of his shaft, (y/n) would carefully move his cock towards your mouth..providing a single lick around the tip; twirling your tongue in a circular pattern to get a feel..he didn’t say a word and rather, waited with bated breath to see how you did. If the sex in Houston was any indicator of how skilled you were in the bedroom, he might truly not be able to leave you alone. However, he couldn’t handle this teasing! Your fingertips grazed over his balls; tracing along the singular vein running across them as well as his shaft. Soon, your lips were cradling his tip and that tongue worked the top half. Instantly, he could feel just how wet your mouth was..pooling with saliva from his previous teasing. You were practically salivating for a chance to suck him dry. Finally taking a couple inches in, you’d gently suckle the tip and allow your mouth to become adjusted to his size. The first time, he didn’t even allow you to touch him because he was so adamant on getting your nuts first. Now, it was time to reciprocate.

“..shit…suck it just like that, baby. ” it wasn’t long before the words were spilling from his mouth in a whiny haze when those suctioning noises and sensations began to increase. Your mouth, hands and tongue..all working in perfect unison to please him. Your head was perfectly cradled in his lap, bobbing to make the rhythmic pace of your mouth. Your hand worked to create a counterclockwise rotation; your hands twisting one and and your lips shooting straight down. Eventually, slurping sounds would emit from you and long, trailed strings of spit were puddling down his shaft. It was blatantly obvious that your talents extended far beyond pole dancing.

still gently massaging that sack, (y/n) removed your other hand entirely from his length and replaced it with merely your mouth. Both palms eventually remained planted on his thighs for leverage. Two inches turned into five and five soon turned into nearly his entire dick residing down your throat. Eren would rake those beautiful locks of yours out of your face so that he had a better view. Those beautiful brown eyes fixated on him until they began to roll back from practically fucking your own face. You’d meet the strokes reminiscent of his; using this man to your leisure right now and he had no complaints! Choking, gagging and spitting all over his cock as if you were disrespecting it and he loved it! Reaching for your head, Eren finally found the strength to assist you..only after clawing his nails into the sheets for five minutes straight and gritting his teeth.

“Eat that fucking dick up, baby..C’mere.” Ushering you towards him with his fingers coiled to the back of your head and his lips drawing near. In a split second, he’d steal a rather passionate and sloppy barrage of kisses from you, despite your entire mouth and top half being drenched in saliva. He’d even spit into your mouth to help aid the effort..soon, his erection was soon lodged back into your mouth, muffling any noise that was coming out. You were an absolute mess of bodily fluids and sweat sheen. Your makeup begins to smear from how hard you had been going. You didn’t care about appearances or how nasty it looked..all you wanted was the satisfaction of seeing him lose his mind. “Don’t be shy, come on my face..” Which he was well on his way to doing when he felt your hand pumping and squeezing both balls and shaft. You’d blow bubbles of saliva and precum at you spat against his cock. From the smile on your face and the constant laughter, it was obvious that you were enjoying this just as much as he was. Of course, that could have also been attributed to being drunk as hell. You’d be met with the vibrations and trembling from his legs as you forced every inch of him to the back of your esophagus. You’d gag for a split moment, only to hold him in place and allow drool to pour down to his base. Allowing him to sandwich your head between his palms and buck his hips into your mouth. Meanwhile, you’d massage those swollen, full balls with the gentlest of hands; in hopes of working him into an orgasm. “Ohhh..my gosh—fuck! You’re so fucking nasty, I love it.”

but before you could drum up those inevitable strings of cum, Eren would halt you in your tracks and lift you from the floor.

“Fuck, baby..climb up here.”

mainly out of sheer desperation to not blow his load too quickly. With his chest heaving and hands trembling from the impending climax that he decided to hold off on, Eren hoisted you onto the bed and on top of him, but not before bringing you in for one more nasty kiss. This time, tugging you by the back of your hair. You were beaming from ear to ear…this was only the beginning of what awaited you two this weekend!

“Mmm..why’d you stop me? I was just having fun..” muttering with a deviant glare and soft giggles, (y/n) traced a fingertip down his chest and noticed the immediate shudder..you had truly worked him over and you had a feeling he was going to burst any second. However, he had other plans. Plans to edge both of you so that when you finally did fuck, it’d be even more intense. “Way too much fun. ‘Bout to make me nut..shit.” Laughing as you laid atop his body; being felt up by his sweating palms. A firm grip followed by a subtle slap to your asscheek..you’d trace your fingers momentarily across his chest. Marked by a plethora of tattoos and chiseled up. He was so sexy, it truly seemed unreal!..how’d you find yourself in bed with a man this fine? Snaking your tongue from between your lips, you’d run them down the prominent jugular vein protruding from the side of his neck, which sent an immediate shiver up his spine..next was his earlobe; subtly teasing around it as your hands canvassed his upper half. You could feel the immense pressure radiating throughout his body. Especially when that licking made its way down to those pieces. “ ‘M sorry..can’t help it..you just look so good..” You couldn’t help but to admire them..admire every line, every color..every square inch of his incredible physique. There had been many of times where you’ve watched his performances or gone to a show of his, only to see that he had taken his shirt off after a mosh pit got too insane or just drenched in sweat fron jumping around like a fucking madman. Either way, even from front row seats..it still didn’t do him justice! Eren truly was the essence of perfection. You couldn’t even stop yourself once you got started. And trust, that’s the last thing he wanted too. “I really…I really missed you..miss the way you fucked me..” drawing out in a slurred tone. Remnants of that alcohol are still fresh on your system. Your fingers scoured his sides whilst you straddled his waist and lips mulling over his body.. “..that dick was sooo good..never had anybody make me squirt before. Feels nice not having to use a toy to come.” Sending both of you into subtle laughter at the mention.

was this a byproduct of the liquor?..were you being so reckless at the mouth because of that or was it true? Did this man really give you life changing sex and you couldn’t let him go now? Regardless, he was loving the praise. Loving it and letting you pop all your shit. Lying there with a wide grin stretched across his face, Eren subtly gripped your ass again as you flicked your tongue across his artwork. “For real, baby? Glad I could be of service...” Laughing amid another whimper as your tongue grazed his nipple. One of his most sensitive areas. He had to admit that his sentiment was the same. That pussy was something serious. The grip, how wet you got and so tight, he barely pulled out before spilling his load. And that head he just got? You were lucky he had an ounce of shame and self control. Otherwise, you’d have his last name right now! The two of you would continue unveiling confessions and admitting all the perverse things you probably wouldn’t have sober. Eventually, neither of you could take this tension and decided to act on it. You’d adjust yourself to take the reins; preparing to ride him with a hand cradled around the shaft but he’d halt you before you could actually get it inside.

“Nah..turn around.”

demanding in a deep, gravely tone. His intention? To see that grip and asshole puckering whilst you rode him. He wanted to watch every movement, every reaction and flexing muscle while you took his cock. Making haste in doing so, you’d reverse your body to face towards the giant mirror and dresser he had placed adjacent to his mounted television. The fact that this huge room alone was just his bedroom was insane…he may not show it publicly but he enjoyed a rather lavish lifestyle. It was the goal honestly..nonetheless, you’d get yourself situated and take a seat down on his cock. Your smaller hand wrapped around his base as your flesh met. The two of you released loud whines, letting both of your loins become adjusted to the new sensation. “Ooh..fuck. ‘S so tight..goddamn.” Noting both the feeling and view of that plump ass swallowing him whole. You were so wet when you’d slid down that there was an initial ‘plop’ noise that caused a twitch from within your walls. “Go ahead, baby..fuck me. Show me you know what to do with it..”

and you had no problem following that order! With his hands folded behind his head, Eren prepared himself fully to be your toy at the moment. You could do as many tricks as you desired..he was yours to use. And in a matter of moments, you were taking your first thrust. You forgot just how big it was until you felt that initial stretch.. “..shit!..so big..” giggling and eliciting one from him as well. “You got it..” but regardless, you kept going..especially with his encouragement. And it didn’t take long before you were propelling yourself from the tip down to the hilt..slowly but surely becoming readjusted to his fullness. He was already erect..swollen to the brim from your previous foreplay and those balls heavy with his arousal; waiting to burst at any moment. Gathering your balance with your feet planted firm into the mattress and palms pressed to his thighs, (y/n) began to find your groove..slamming that ass up and down on his dick! It didn’t take long before a sheath of translucent liquid began to form between your laps. The sound erupted throughout the room..a chorus of moans and smacking noises between colliding skin. And the view was even better..at least from Eren’s side! Watching you find your rhythm was a beautiful thing because you’d bounce on it as if it were nothing. The grip of that tight cunt wrapping around him with each passing stroke. “Mmmph!…fuck meee..right there, yes..” you’d cry out in a high pitched whimper as that cock head made home in your sensitive core. Hitting it every single time you went down. You couldn’t be contained and he damn sure wasn’t going to stop you. Another bonus was that pretty little asshole flexing for him as well. The things he wanted to do with you would undoubtedly get him judged. But he was glad to know that you were equally nasty. Maybe things were going a little fast, maybe nothing would come out of this. Hell, he was no good for relationships anyways but you were way too fine to pass up on in any capacity. At this point, he didn’t know how he’d react if he saw you with another man and never in all twenty six years of his young life had he felt that way! You weren’t even dating or remotely close and he was acting the fool..

“Fuck, ride that dick. Matter ‘fact..spread that ass open..yeah, that’s it. Lemme see that pussy squeezing me.”

happily obliging with your long acrylics clawing across that supple flesh. He saw just how much of a vice grip that little hole had on him. He was already pulsating and throbbing so you better move quickly. Watching each of your movements in the mirror really boosted your ego and quite frankly, gassed your head up. Especially when he told you how pretty you looked riding him. Those perky titties popping out, drool seeping from your mouth down to that tummy and those expressions. “Yeah, just like that. Keep going, baby. Got my fucking shit so hard..swear this pussy too good..” Eventually, you’d one up yourself and transition into a split. You didn’t even miss a beat, slamming down on his balls. That coupled with the lit blunt that was previously burning from the nightstand..now pursed between his lips was nothing short of euphoria. The face of his AP flickering in the light as that hand crept back up to spank your cheeks. “Nnnghh..thank you, daddy. Wanna squirt on this fucking dick..come all over it.” A bold proclamation that wasn’t far out of reach by any means. Especially when you recoiled your legs and laid flat to really let that ass slam down on him!

your knees to either side of him and that juicy bottom bogging down on his cock. “Shit!—do it then, baby. Get your nut. Squirt on that dick—“ and like clockwork, his words did the trick. You’d shoot up as if you had sprang a leak and let that liquid pool all over his base, cock and swollen balls. You made an absolute mess and he was certain it wouldn’t be the last. “Fuuuck..that’s it. Wet it up, we’ll worry about the mess later.” Ensuring that the momentum wasn’t wasted, he’d let your ride out that orgasm for just a second or two before coiling his arms around the backs of your thick thighs and tugging you backwards until you were seated on his face. He didn’t want to waste a single drop and instead, immediately buried himself in between those cheeks. All you could elicit was a loud laugh, grinning from the constant stimulation. You could hear him smacking and kissing on your pretty pussy lips. “Ahhh—haaa..eat that pussy, baby..stick that tongue in it.” Prodding and flicking his tongue around that clit and he enjoyed every second. His arm circulated your waist and kept that ass reigned in; mashing it into his cheeks. Meanwhile, you’d add to his moans by cupping his member and tasting the remnants on his entire lower half. Both of you were unhinged; working hard to please one another.. seeing who’d tap out first for this round. Eren didn’t have much restraint left, especially with his nose buried deep into your essence. The wetness, the sweet smell..it was so delectable. “Spit in it—oh fuck..like that..”

doing so whilst you swallowed his dick whole. The two of you went back and forth, exchanging filthy commands and praises just alike. Only certain to end in inevitable climaxes for you both. He’d finish drumming out the remainder of your juices and you?

“F—fuck..wait, I’m com—aghhhhh! Fuck me, fuck yes!”

met with a stream of hot, white cum pooling into your mouth. The warmth filling your jaws and splattering down your chin. The sweet tasting remnants rested on your tongue for a moment before you’d gently squeeze his balls. That swollen mushroom tip was beaming bright red and oozing with pearlescent cream; twitching on its own accord. But you’d immediately be thrusted forward and positioned on your knees as Eren quickly mounted behind you. He was so riled up right now, he wasn’t responsible for how hard he was about to fuck you. In a split second, you found his hand clutching your throat and the other pulling your hair. His fingers twisted around those thirty something inches of pure Brazilian; toiling them around until he gently tugged you towards him. Meanwhile, (y/n) wiggled your way back against his pelvis, signaling that you were more than ready for round two. “Put it in yourself..” growling into your ear with such a sexy tone of voice, it nearly made your legs buckle. “You can have all this dick..” constantly taunting as you struggled to maneuver him back in. Mainly due to being inebriated..so when you didn’t move fast enough, he’d grasp the top of your shoulder blade and pull back until you were impaled on his cock yet again, being met with a ‘pop’. Releasing yet another breathy sigh, you’d beg for him to give you all he had and not be gentle about it either. You needed him to be rough, to let you know regardless of a status, he wasn’t coming up off of you for a while.

“Mmph..give it to me.”

arching your back and placing your hands on those round cheeks, spreading them apart for full access. Which he took full advantage of by letting a long trail deep down to your folds before he glided back in. It was like a blanket of warmth cradling him upon reentering. Needless to say, you had opened up quite nicely but a little more couldn’t hurt. “Whatever you want, baby...I got you..” pushing past the tip and the first couple of inches, he’d keep a firm hand on your waist and another on your neck..wasting little to no time before thrusting up into you at a more speedy pace. He figured he had sat idle long enough and now it was time to show you just how badly he had been missing you. It wasn’t long before he was pounding and impaling you with full force. The strokes weren’t terribly brutal but he ensured that you felt each one. The bed jolted underneath you as he thrashed you around. But the best part? Was how vocal he had gotten. It was something so attractive about a man who wasn’t afraid to moan, grunt and even verbalize how good it felt. And trust, he had no issue letting you know what was on his mind. “So fucking tight!..goddamn. Open that shit up, baby. Let me in it…it’s mine now, right? That’s what you said..c’mon, lemme hear you say that shit again..” “Yes! Stretch this pussy, daddy! It’s yours...” the constant smacking and pressing of dewy skin together filled the air. The two of you were a hot, sticky, intoxicated mess with plans to go until either of your bodies could move. “Love when you call me that, baby. Makes me wanna fuck you even more.” And even then, you’d only rest up to get right back to it. You wanted him for as long as possible..

“Shit!..you feel so good..creaming all over me. Fuck, ion wanna pull out, baby.”

the words slipped before he even realized it. It didn’t matter though..you two had well established the first time that you were well covered when it came to the contraceptive department. Not that you had any use for it until he came along, but you had a handy little IUD and the pill to ensure you were straight. At this point, anything was a go. Boundaries, consequences and even fallout from this..nothing mattered in that moment. Being with a man who made you feel alive again was all you needed. Especially when he’d pull you back to his chest, still drilling your little cunt and your upper half coiled into somewhat of a headlock.. “..come in this pussy..” “..yeah?..want me to nut in it? Swear, I’ll fill your pretty ass up.” “You heard what I said. Do it..” Whispering in a haze of passionate, sloppy kisses. Pressed face to face, skin to skin and no chance of being apart for the foreseeable future. That was at least for the next forty eight hours. Whatever was to follow and wherever the chips may lay…you were prepared for it all. Even the possibility of this turning into something a little more than just another one night stand..

as frightening as it was!..

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

from sundown to sunrise, the two of you made love in every position known to man. From some passionate missionary where he looked you in your eyes the entire time to being hoisted midair and propelled on his cock like a little fleshlight to even lying on your sides because you both were entirely too spent to move but still needed more. The entire ordeal ended when neither of you could take anymore and you collapsed in the sheets, covered in one another’s cum, sweat and tears. It was a mess but a beautiful one. One that neither of you had experienced in a long time, if ever for that matter! Going round after round with a person you could joke, laugh and be comfortable with. It felt great and needless to say, your friends would be proud of you both for finally loosening up and letting your hair down. You couldn’t lie, it was nice to wake up next to someone you didn’t feel anxious around. Even so, you couldn’t get too complicit..it wasn’t as if he was your man. Hell, even after fucking you like he was trying to make you his baby mama, it was important to be careful. At the end of the day, you didn’t know him as well as you wanted to. It was as if he were equally as guarded. Almost as if you were only seeing the sides of him that he wanted you to witness. That was the thing about EJ..even after all this time. A solid ten years or so in the game and no one really knew the true him. The man behind the dark imagery, the grim lyrics and beautiful sounds. As far as who he was outside of the music…your guess was as good as anyone else’s. You even thought back to the first night you met and he admitted that he suffered from social anxiety. Although it was obvious that was a secret he didn’t exactly go around divulging in everyone, there was still this sense that he wasn’t going to fully open himself up to you anytime soon.

“Now this is how I like waking up..”

“Mmm…I could say the same. Good morning.”

meanwhile, Eren was sharing similar convictions. As he found himself on top of you once more, sheets cradling your bodies and private areas meeting once more, along with his face nuzzled into your neck, he couldn’t help but to think about how fast this all was moving. Granted, he wasn’t helping the cause and maybe he hadn’t exercised the restraint he wanted to but now it was starting to hit him just how nonchalant he had been. Did he really want to keep this going? Did he really want to give you false hope that somehow you’d end up with him? He was no more fit to be in a relationship now than he was when he was younger. He didn’t for a reason..he couldn’t guarantee that he’d be able to give you what you were looking for past the physical aspect but even so….

what is it about you? I don’t get it..we’ve only known each other a month and some change and here I am losing my fucking mind…acting like I’ve never had pussy before. I’m tweaking. (Y/N), you’ve made me the happiest I’ve been in a long time and as much as I hate to admit it..I’m not like Armin. I actually give a damn about who I lay up with. I don’t want you to be just another body but I’m not ready. I’m not ready to have to answer somebody else. To have to worry about somebody else other than myself. Sounds fucking crazy considering that we’ve been fucking like animals since last night and I mean it when I say I don’t wanna come up off of you for nothing..but you deserve better, baby. That much I can be sure of. I’ll only end up hurting you, I just know it. Still…I can’t help it. I can’t help it when you look at me like that. The way you call just to ask about my day. When you tell me it’s all mine..the way you call me daddy..what the hell else am I supposed to do? Pretend I don’t feel shit? I hate it. I hate that you did this to me and if I were smart, I’d kick you out right now to avoid either of us getting hurt but ion want to quit you just yet. I want more. I’m a selfish asshole, I’ll be the first to admit it. So what do I say?…what else am I supposed to tell you besides…

just then, he’d find himself snapping from his trance when he began panting heavily; your fingers clawing into his arms with a look of pure ecstasy on your tired face. You had come for him once again and were begging him to ease up because your legs couldn’t stop shaking. “Sorry, baby..” cooing to you with a gentle hand on your cheek. Your eyes and energy told a story of pure desire..desire that burned brighter despite the distance between you two. “Don’t be..I don’t want you to stop. I don’t even wanna leave.” Maybe this was a little rushed, a little crazy but so was life itself. It was also entirely too short to sit and mull over decisions pertaining to your happiness! Why deny yourselves the joy of companionship when the attraction was obviously too strong to ignore? So with the reluctance diminishing by the second, EJ would gently cup your face in his palms and utter the words he swore to himself he never would and a question you never thought you’d hear from a man you had so long looked up to:

“Then go out with me. Let’s turn this into sum’. What do you say?”

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :

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#cherry’s works 🌹🍒 #aot x black reader #black fem reader #black reader #musician x influencer au #eren x black fem!reader #black reader smut #aot au #musician au #eren x black reader #eren jaeger #eren fic #eren jaeger x black reader #eren jaeger x black!fem reader #eren x reader #rever series #reverb chapter 10 #eren smut #aot smut #snk smut #aot x reader #aot x y/n #aot x female reader #modern au #cw smut #cw spit #cw suggestive #snk fic #snk au #snk x black reader

[killbilled]

- Naomi Alderman, The Power

#shingeki no kyojin #snk #snkedit #snkgraphic #attack on titan #aotedit #aot #animeedit #eren jaeger #eren yeager #anisource #dailyanime #fyanimegifs #fymanganime #allanimanga #* #anime* #snk* #posting some old sets from my drafts now that the series is over

[nininikki]

𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐌𝐑. 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓 | 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

☆ SYNOPSIS — you meet eren jaeger and the two of you fall in love almost instantly. the only thing in your way? he’s married. oh, and the fact that he’s about to become president.

☆ PAIRING — (POTUS!eren x actress/model!reader)

☆ WARNINGS/BYF — nsfw! age gap (reader is 29-30, eren is 39-40), black fem!reader, heavy heavy HEAVY infidelity, established relationship (eren is married) politics and government talk, mentions of pregnancy, infertility, and trying for a baby, manipulation, mikasa’s kind of mean in this story (i’m sorry), mentions of sex, eventual sexual content/smut, handjob, alcohol consumption, mentions of jean x reader

☆ author’s note — inspired by shonda rhimes’ phenomenal series, scandal, specifically the olitz ship. love me some fitz and liv so i couldn’t not write this, yk? updates will be sporadic, but (hopefully) still entertaining. thank you for reading!

TABLE OF CONTENTS

I. delightful little laughs and golf excursions — upon meeting one another, you and governor eren jaeger struggle to deal with the onslaught of mutual attraction that inevitably follows. can be read here.

II. what did i tell you? — following a blundered primary and a heated argument with his wife, eren knows exactly who to call. can be read here.

III. nice enough — as eren is faced with an obstacle regarding his fight for the office, all he can seem to think of is you. meanwhile, your dinner at the jaeger’s goes…interestingly. can be read here.

IV. it’s all coming back to me now — your complicated feelings for eren come to a head during his star-studded ball. can be read here.

© NININIKKI. do not translate, copy, or modify my works in any way shape or form.

#nikki writes ✶ #happy birthday mr. president #masterlist #series masterlist #attack on titan #aot #attack on titan x black reader #attack on titan masterlist #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger x black reader

[cyberkitty1]

𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓂𝑒

Eren Yaeger x black!fem!reader

The love story of your relationship with Eren. Including your high’s and low’s, the beginning, the middle and maybe even the end.

you sped walked to your next class, with your tote on your shoulder. it was confusing being in a place so big and unfamiliar. you stood in front of the door talking a deep deep breath before exhaling and pushing said door open.

all eyes landed on you as you looked for a seat seeing one right next to the windows going from floor to ceiling.

you sat silently gracing your laptop ready to take notes listening intently when the guy sitting to your right caught your eye, his tattoos especially. spanning from his hands to his neck. you couldn’t help but stare until he tilted his head towards you, startling you.

you cough as you switch your attention back to the lesson.

as it came to a close you started packing your bag. “hey” you heard a deep, raspy voice say. confused you turn and look in his direction. you look around for a second before muttering a simple “hello” “you new? i dont recognize your face” he says simply “ yea todays my first day actually” you scratch your neck.

“makes sense, im Eren Yeager nice to meet you.”

——

it was already winning so idc, prt 2 is already being made 😛

banner from @fawndollie !

NEW TAGLIST

#eren x black fem!reader #eren x you #eren x reader #eren aot #eren yeager #eren jeager x reader #eren jaeger #eren #college au #collage #au #aot au #student #˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒆 #cyberkitty1 #series #multi part fic #part 1